Of All Negan's Wives
by piratedlish
Summary: I have no idea what I'm doing... this is a work in progress... really, I just wanted some input b/c I've read stories on here, but never published. Any advice would be appreciated. This would be the softer side of Negan and his journey with the girl who would become his first wife and confidant, it's just from the perspective of the tv show before Rick's group meets Negan.
1. Just some notes

Well, I typed a lot, then accidentally highlighted and it deleted it. I've written lots on Twitter and Instagram... and have things here and there. I wanted to look at the dynamic of Negan and his wives, but in a more positive light, as Rick seems to be more unhinged than Negan in the TV show. ANYhow, I've never written, only read on here. I will be doing many edits, so please bare with me. I haven't found anything that deals with this subject, so I hope that I can pave the way... We shall see. Please help me with tips or anything you have. Thanks.

Before… I had friends with husbands in the military. I can only imagine this is how it felt when they sent them off for war. I worry- not because I don't think Negan can handle it (he can handle anything), but b/c I don't know these other assholes. They creep in and attack and kill my family while they sleep… fucking cowards. They've blown my people up (or set them on fire)… I'm still not sure what happened with T's group. I know it's not the Hilltop pussies- they're gatherers. Gatherers don't take on hunters. Did they finally get some balls? Why now? As if Craig was some precious hostage. I think Lucille needs to come out and play. But we have to find them first.

I have a feeling Jesus is involved with these attacks on us. The few times I've ever been around that hippie, I've felt his eyes boring into me. The one time our eyes met, I saw a look of lust? Sympathy? If he thinks I'm here against my will, he's a fucktard. I don't know what the other wifeys have whined about this and that, but not me. Paul Monroe is not my knight in shining armor and he needs to stop calling himself Jesus- he's not MY savior.

If Negan saw me chewing on my jewelry, he might spank me. Although I'd invite that. My nerves are just wracked because I don't know what's going on right now with those mysterious assholes. The jewels are unnecessary, but more proof of Negan caring about us. He's never laid a hand on any of his wives. Since this shitstorm happened to the planet, he has protected me- from biters and men. He's given me shelter. He's made sure that I've been fed. This world has gotten smaller, but he's managed to create something- to create a big community, and for me, a sisterhood of wives. I take comfort in knowing that and that someone physically desires me. Negan has kept me from death's door so many times. I owe him my life and will gladly defend our family against these outside threats against our home.

Negan gives us the best of everything- jewels, trinkets, dresses, frilly things- anything the guys find when they're out. He doesn't have to do that. He wants his wives to be happy. But, most importantly he's given us love. I can't say I honestly trust every wife, but it's not my call who Negan chooses. I just think it's fucking stupid for these bitches to be ungrateful. Negan gives us privileges that others don't have. Why Sherry and Tina would run off w/ Dwight is beyond me. And, honestly, I think Dwight looks BETTER with half of his face charred off. Fucker. And, it's on him that Tina died. Again, why would you WANT to leave? Am I crazy? Primo. Paula. Others left charred because of these mysterious assholes. Who are they and why are they fucking with us? Negan has rules. Every civilized society does (Hello? Lord of the Flies- "you have to have rules"). Negan also has morals. Negan protects us. Why would you want to give that up and end up dead- or worse- out in that wasteland fighting biters?


	2. The Beginning: Negan Backstory

I think back to how Negan and I met. Who would have ever thought that this guy—this wannabe suave douche would lead all these men and women. Have people die for him. It's crazy. But, I don't know how I would've survived without him. He saved my life. Maybe I helped save his.

I'd moved back from Florida to my home state of West Virginia. Life had kicked me down, as far as job opportunities went. I thought I'd come home to be closer to my family. I had multiple degrees, but teaching was my thing. I loved Kindergarteners. And, from what everyone was saying, and how hard I'd been recruited in a few states, schools were desperate for teachers. If you know anything about West Virginia, the southern region isn't the best. West Virginia number one in lots of things—obesity, low socioeconomic status, and all those other great things that magazines made lists about. The other parts of the state were great, but I was from the capital area (what some would call the southern part of the state). The eastern panhandle was booming, though, as more and more people were moving into the eastern panhandle of the state and commuting into Washington D.C. because of the cheaper cost of living in West Virginia, compared to Virginia or Maryland. There were a plethora of jobs and I had friends that told me I should go. My parents also thought the panhandle would be a great move.

I wasn't too keen on the D.C. crowd. They always acted like their shit didn't stink, but children don't know any better and I'd be working in West Virginia, anyhow. So, I would now only be about five hours from home instead of 15 hours. I found a job in the panhandle and things were going great. Then the outbreaks started. Being a teacher, you just assume that kids are getting sick because they aren't used to this new school environment, with all its new germs. But, it wasn't just my Kindergartners that were getting sick. Older kids and teachers were coming down with the virus. Before you knew it, we were being told not to come back to school until the government found out what was going on.

This was fine by me. I preferred sleeping in and I lived alone, so I could walk around naked (something Negan would come to appreciate about me down the road). I also thought this would give me time to get things taken care of—errands—that I hadn't really been able to do since I'd moved up here. On one particular Saturday, I took my Rav4 into the nearest Toyota dealership to make sure that everything was okay. I'd taken books and my laptop to pass the time. I knew tire rotations and aligning and all that could take forever. So, after meeting up with the guy at the service desk at the desk to drop my keys off, I headed into the waiting area.

That Saturday, it wasn't busy, like I'd think a car dealership would normally be. There weren't salesmen all over the floor, asking you if you needed help every two seconds. It felt rather odd. Maybe it was because we'd been ordered to stay in our houses as much as possible, but at that point, we didn't know that shit was about to hit the fan in a major way. I remember getting on my laptop and couldn't get a wifi signal. No big deal… I had my books and grabbed one that I'd read 1,000 times (but liked to skip to the smutty parts, so maybe I'd just read those parts 1,000 times, but the actual book twice). I was getting to a good part where there was going to be vampire sex when I heard this booming voice come out of nowhere and start talking to the guy at the front service desk. He was going on about how we needed to "get our fucking asses home because he'd talked to a government buddy of his and they were going to bomb the fuck out of D.C. and the surrounding metro areas." He went on and on and I ignored him. I went back to my vampire love story.

Before you could say "bite my neck," I heard a scream. All three of the customers waiting on their vehicles in the waiting area (including me), the loud salesman, and the serviceman at the desk turned their attention to the ladies' bathroom, where a woman was coming out of the door: crawling on her hands and knees. She crumpled totally to the floor and I noticed that blood was gushing from her shoulder—or her neck—I couldn't quite tell. At that point, I can't remember how it all went down. I was on my feet, as was everyone else. We were panicked, trying to figure out if we needed to help her or flee. Everyone was screaming or barking orders to stay back. I chose to be a dumbass and just freeze in place. Suddenly, a pint-sized human came out after the woman. It looked human—but it wasn't. It looked sick. It looked dead. It had blood dripping from its mouth and was going in for more. The woman continued to shriek as the toddler feasted on its mother. Frozen. I was frozen to the ground. I'd never seen anything like this in my life. There was chaos, as a few more of the salesmen and mechanics ran in from their respective departments, then seemed to retreat. I heard a car screeching away and it hit me that I needed to do the same. As I turned to find the mechanic with my car keys, I heard shots. An entire round had been fired. I didn't know if _I_ had been shot. I didn't know if I was still alive. I merely sank to the floor and fell unconscious.

When I awoke, the chatterbox car salesman was talking to me. "Florida? You Florida? Damnit. Can you fucking hear me?" I could hear him but I was in shock. What did he mean with Florida? I was in Virginia. Then it occurred to me: I'd never taken my Florida license plate off of my Rav4. That had also been on my to-do list: go to the DMV. I think I nodded at the man as I tried to process where I was. I was still in the dealership. I was in Virginia. I was on a couch in an office. My belongings were beside me. The lights were flickering… or maybe that was my brain. I think I'd passed out and had a nightmare, but looking up at this man I realized that what I'd seen, he'd also witnessed. He wasn't as jovial and boisterous as he'd been when he was talking about the government to his buddy earlier. And, then I realized, _holy shit. He was right_. _They were going to bomb us_. Our own government had no answer to taking out that—whatever I'd just seen—so they were going to just take us all out. It made no sense… but, when had the U.S. made sense in its decisions lately. I gaped up at this man. I'm not sure what I looked like or how I sounded, but I tried to be as polite as possible as I said, "Yes. The Florida Rav4 is mine. I'm sorry. I don't know what's happening or what happened. I heard gunshots and—"

"Yes you did. They were _my_ gunshots. I put that fucking bitch out of her misery and that fucker that was eating at her, too," he grinned.

I must've looked like he'd slapped me because his smile disappeared and he started to stutter, "I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to be so, um, impolite."

I nodded my head and he seemed to take that as an acceptance to his apology. "Do you know what that, um, _fucker_ was?"

"I know what it wasn't. Human."

I took a long swallow. I'd heard things on social media about horror stories and people around the country becoming like something out of a video game, but I never thought I'd have to witness it, firsthand. From the look on my face, I must have looked like I was about to vomit, because the salesman offered up a trashcan.

"No, I'm alright." I'd started to ramble. "I don't even think I've had anything to eat today. How long was I out? Why did you bring me here? Where _is_ here, by the way?"

"You're safe," he said. "Right now, it's just you and me here in my office. Well, and the two bloody fuckers outside, but they don't count, cause they're fucking dead."

I suddenly became tense. He seemed like a douchebag. Aside from the fact that he was hot as hell, I didn't know if he was lying. I didn't know if there was a whole crew of mechanics and salesmen waiting to gangbang me and he was just the lookout to let them know when I was conscious. But, then again, why would they even bother with me being conscious if they were going to do that anyway? My emotions were a wreck and the tears began to flow down my cheeks. It was the stress. It was the blood. It was what I'd seen, what I'd been told, what I knew was going to happen. I'm not a survivor. I knew that I was done for and soon. The tears just confirmed that.

"I'm sorry, sir," I whimpered.

"It's Negan," he replied.

I laughed nervously, "Yeah. I guess I coulda just read your nameplate on the desk."

"It's alright," he soothed. He went over to his desk, found a box of tissues and offered them to me. I thanked him and he bent down and looked me square in the face. "You don't have to be afraid. I promise. I've got you. I took care of those fuckers and we got everyone evacuated. I didn't want to leave you unconscious. You didn't deserve to be left, alone and afraid."

At his words, the dam burst again, this time, the breathing was more ragged. Negan grabbed one of the tissues and wiped my cheek. "It's okay to let it out, darlin'. I'm not gonna judge you and I hope you won't hold it against me that I shot those fuckers… and that I say 'fuck' a lot." He grinned. His smile was contagious. I started laughing. "No, I'm not going to take offense to you saving my life nor that you curse a lot. I used to curse like a sailor, but now I have to keep it in check, because of my job."

"Can I ask what you do?"

"I'm a teacher."

"A teacher?" The grin became wider, almost darker. "What grade?"

I knew where this was going. If I had a dime for every time I'd had this conversation, I wouldn't need to work. "Kindergarten," I replied.

"That's hot," Negan said. "I love smoking hot teachers. Do you like to give out extra credit?"

"OhmyGod! Do you know how many guys think being a teacher is hot and how many lame lines like that I get?"

"Oh. So my line was lame, huh?"

"Yeah. It was fucking lame. Besides, we don't give extra credit in Kindergarten," I laughed.

His pride not as wounded as I thought and he joined in my laughter and took a seat beside me on the small couch and then sighed loudly. He was so big and muscular. I'm not sure what he was doing as a car salesman… he looked like he should be modeling. Maybe he did both. As my thoughts wandered about what he was doing in Virginia, being the average Joe and that maybe he was really a spy because of his gun skills, I suddenly felt a pang in my bladder and became very aware that I had to pee more than I'd ever needed to in my life.

From the small window in his office, I could tell that dusk was about to fall. The sunset seemed to be a light reddish-pink and it cascaded over the floor. But, I didn't have time to admire the view. I had more urgent needs.

"Um. Negan?"

"Yeah?"

"I, uh, I really have to potty." I think I flushed the color of the sunset at that moment. Telling a gorgeous guy that you have to _potty_ , like a 4-year-old. I could've died.

The grin was back. "Potty?"

"Um, yes. Sorry. I can't adult sometimes," I laughed.

He laughed. "It's okay. I think you're adorable. Come with me." He unlocked and opened up his office door and took my hand. He looked around, cautiously taking stock of all that was around us, making sure that everything was clear, then led me down a hallway and to a door. He let go of my hand and said, "Wait right here. I told you that you were safe and I'm not going to be made a fucking liar." With that, he went inside the restroom and made sure that it was clear. When he came back out, he touched my shoulder and said, "it's all clear. You go do what you gotta do." That fucking grin was on his face again.

I turned the water on so that he couldn't hear me and was quickly finished. I washed my hands and was back in the hallway in less than three minutes.

"Damn. Did you really go or were you just trying to get the hell away from me?" he laughed.

"Well, if I was trying to get away from you, I think I did a lousy job of it." I put up my hand for him to take. He did the same check in his office as he had with the bathroom before he let me enter. Once inside, he pushed the couch in front of the door. I didn't want to ask why, but after what I'd seen that day, I knew.

We both sat cross-legged on the office floor. "Well, little missy, while you were comatose, I went around and looted this joint and made sure that we didn't have any more _friends_ like we saw earlier—I _did_ leave those fuckers where they were. I blew both their brains out. I figured that after word gets out about this mess, aint no one gonna be coming back up here tonight. Hell, maybe not even tomorrow. You should've seen those motherfuckers fly out of this place. You'd think it was on fire. But, we shouldn't have been here in the first place. You know they told us to stay in our homes, but a man's gotta work. What were _you_ doing out, when your noble leaders told you not to leave your house, anyway?"

"I had to get my car worked on. Simple as that. And I had errands to run. I'm still pretty new to the area. Um, hello? Florida tags still on the car."

"What? No man in your life to take care of things for you?"

"Are you prying, Negan? And, no. There isn't."

"Good." That shit-eating grin. I wasn't sure I was going to get used to that. But it did make him look like sex-on-a-stick and, at that moment, if he hadn't been rummaging through his "loot," I swear I would've jumped him. Hell, it could've be my last day on earth.

"Here we go," he smiled. "All the snacks and bullshit items that Toyota puts their logo on—we have towels, shirts, blankets, bats, balls, keychains—I have no fucking idea why I grabbed keychains, flashlights, batteries, neck pillows, annnnnnd that's pretty much all I grabbed, besides this handy-dandy cooler that's keeping all the yum-yums cold as a witch's fucking titty."

"Thank you, Negan," I said. "I can't believe you stayed. I am so sorry. You should get back home and—." He put his hand over my mouth.

"Don't thank me. I saw Heaven and Hell today. That fucking devil came out of the bathroom. And he's not the first one I've seen. I've got friends in the military. And, yeah, I act like a fucknut, but I ain't stupid. Hell is coming if it's not here already. I don't know what else is going to happen, but I have a feeling it's going to be a shitshow. I've always carried, but lately I've been packing more ammo than I usually do and today showed me that my instincts were right." He stared at his office door.

After a few minutes, I said, "You said you saw Hell _and_ Heaven. Where did you see Heaven?"

Negan turned to me with a look I will never be able to describe to this day. His eyes shone and even though I know now that he can be a charmer and I know that he can be totally full of shit at times, I also know that he's never lied to me and that look has never been replicated in all of our time together. He's come close to it, but _this_ look—he looked at me as if I had been sent down from Heaven to him, for him. And at that moment, I knew what he was talking about. It was me.

I blinked at him. He just looked right back at me. After what seemed like forever, he shifted his gaze to his palms, which were in his lap and he shook his head. "I've never been a religious man. I've never been married. I don't have kids that I know of. My parents are dead. I don't think I'm a bad guy but I don't know if I'm a good guy, either. I didn't feel like coming into work today. Not because I'm fucking lazy. I'm honestly kinda scared. But, I'd rather come to work than stay in my townhouse like those fuckers keep telling us to do. There's shit going crazy there. I've seen death. I have caused death. I made you witness death today. But, I aint going down without a fight. I don't intend on doing what they tell me to do to _keep me safe_. I think it's marching into our own deaths. I've got more balls than all those fuckers that are giving orders combined. I just can't go back. I can't."

"Can't go back where?"

"To my fucking neighborhood. They're starting to clear out people and section us off. It's like fucking concentration camps or some shit."

"Negan, this can't be compared to the Holocaust."

"Then what? Japanese Internment camps?"

 _Someone likes World War II_. "They're just trying to keep us safe and keep a giant mob from growing. They don't want overthrown. They don't know what to do. I don't know who does."

"You're fucking right they don't. Those cocksuckers have no idea. But I fucking know what to do. Did you see me hesitate when I capped those fuckers this afternoon? Nope. If I ran things, we'd have more order and there'd be a code and… and… I don't know. I'm just not going back to my neighborhood. They're not taking me anywhere. I've got all my shit and I'm going rogue."

"Ohhh, so you didn't stay with me just to be noble. You'd planned on staying here, anyway."

"Not what I said."

"Whatever Negan. Heaven. Hell. Whatever."

"You didn't let me get to the Heaven part." His gaze was fixed on me with _that look_ again.

My eyes were wide. "I'm _no_ angel. Well, at one point in my life I was, but then college happened and—." The hand was over my mouth again. His eyes were pleading.

"But, you fucking are," he said. "I'd fucking planned to leave today. Like I said, I'm not going back to my fucking neighborhood and I've got all my fucking shit packed. I loaded up one of our huge-fucking-ass trucks with everything I'd need—gasoline, water, food, blankets, guns, ammo, knives—all that shit. And my ass was out the door tonight. But then you happened." He let his hand uncover my mouth and held it at my cheek.

"What? You need some ass before you hit the road?" I rolled my eyes.

He roared with laughter and then that gaze was back. He took my hands in his. My hands were trembling and I think his were, too.

"Listen. I never believed in love and all that shit. Love at first sight was bullshit and I'd never experienced it and I'm old—I've fucking been around."

"My feelings, exactly, except once I did experience it. I think it's real—love at first sight, I mean."

"Where is he?"

"He could be one of those monsters by now for all I know. He's married, with a family. Whatever. He didn't fight for us and I spent a long time trying to get over him. But I'll never truly be over him. You can't truly get over a love like that. Maybe I'll see him again. Well, I used to believe that. But now I don't know what I believe." The tears began rolling down my cheeks. I never thought I'd be able to get over my ex-boyfriend. "Listen, he was- or is- the love of my life and I can't be your Heaven because I'm no one's Heaven. He's the only person who has ever accepted me for me. I gave a decade of my life to him, only to lose him. I should've done so many things, but was too afraid to." I was a babbling mess, rambling on and on, but Negan still held my hands.

"He's a fucking pussy. Stupid mother-fucker." I released my hands from his quickly. I'd heard this from others and I knew the argument that would ensue.

"If you met him, you'd like him. I can't talk badly about him, because he truly is the most wonderful person—"

"If I ever meet him, I'm going to kill him."

I'd never heard that in any conversations I'd had about my lost love before. I scooted back across the carpet, scared out of my mind. I was dealing with a psychopath _. Just because they're gorgeous, doesn't mean they're not crazy_. I had no idea how I'd gotten myself into this mess and now, tears streaked my face and this "Negan," _if that was really even his name_ , tells me he's going to kill the only person I've ever loved… and still did.

I looked down at my hands. They were really shaking right now. I could feel him move. I had nowhere to go. He was crawling across the floor. This was it. I was going to be raped or murdered or both. I couldn't say. I was worked up over my ex. That always did it, but now… I thought I was going to throw up. As my body trembled, I felt his presence and saw that he was on his knees in front of me. He took my hands in his and squeezed them. Then he took them and placed them on his face and said, "Anyone who causes you pain will pay."

I shook my head and he continued, "Look at me and listen." I obeyed. "They deserve to pay. I'm a good fucking judge of character. You are good. You are better than me. But, you were sent _to_ me and I know that I don't fucking deserve you. Like I said, I aint religious, but I'll praise whoever I got to for you coming in here today. This guardian angel shit works two fucking ways. I know that you were sent to me. Believe me. I'm not crazy. I didn't leave you because _I couldn't_. And I'm a mean, selfish motherfucker. But, I knew. I knew that I loved you. And you can't tell me that this isn't possible because you told me yourself that you'd experienced it with your ex. I know that you're my guardian angel and I vow to love and protect you from the shitstorm that's about to hit." A single tear rolled down his perfect face. I cracked. I started sobbing.

"No, no, no," Negan pleaded. "I know I sound batshit crazy right now, but I've never fucking felt this way. I was going to leave and then I saw you on the ground and my heart stopped. Please, you have to fucking believe me." I realized that I was now in his arms and he rocked me back and forth for what felt like forever. Neither one of us said anything. I didn't want to admit to myself, and especially not to him, that I'd felt something in the air, too. But, I had to be rational. We could've been feeling the rush of adrenaline from the scene we'd both processed earlier in the day. But, he had his mind made up and I had a feeling that once that happened, there was no going back for him. I had to just figure out what I was going to do. Would he force me to go with him? Would he go where I went? I didn't want to go home, either. I knew that there were things that I needed from my apartment, but it seemed too risky. They _were_ rounding us all up and checking our temperatures and separating us. He _was_ right. I didn't want to go back to my home, either.

When I woke up, I was very thirsty. How long had I been out? Why was I so sweaty? Then it occurred to me where I was and who I was with. The who was still holding me in his arms.

"So, you've come back to the land of the living?" Negan asked.

"Sorry I keep doing that."

"It's alright. It's been a fucking crazy day. But now that you're awake, I'm gonna feed my fat ass. I imagine you're pretty fucking famished, yourself."

I didn't know if I even had an appetite, but we dined in the middle of the night on snack foods and cans of Coke. Afterwards, he made up a bed out of the towels and blankets that he'd commandeered. He assessed me tentatively, then broke out a sly grin. "You need to potty again?" he asked.

"I probably should, just in case."

"Alright, let's go."

When we returned, he stripped off his shirt and pants, leaving nothing but boxers. I thought my ovaries were going to explode, but I tried not to look at him. I didn't really know what to do with myself. I usually slept naked, but with this potential lunatic, that was definitely not happening. As if he could read my mind, he said, "I usually sleep naked, but I don't want to scare you away."

"Well, that makes two of us," I bravely countered.

He grinned wickedly. "Well, if that's what we're both used to, why break our habits?"

"Because I haven't even known you for 24 hours. Hand me a t-shirt."

"What if _I_ just sleep naked?"

"It's your office. I suppose you make the rules."

"Is that so? If _I_ make the rules, then you have to come over here and kiss me. That's rule number fucking one."

"Seriously? My breath is probably rank and you have to be tired and I'm a mess with a tear-stained face and this will end badly and I don't know if I trust you and—"

"Goddamnit woman! You're no fun."

"Fine." I sauntered over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He roared with laughter. I was beginning to turn around, when he grabbed my wrist. I looked up at him—a good foot taller than I was—and I couldn't help myself. He took his free hand and brushed the hair out of my face and let his other hand go from my wrist to my hand. When both hands were intertwined with mine, he looked me in the eyes and said, "I know it's been a rough fucking day. But, I'm certain that things are only going to get worse. We're fucked. But, I'm not fucking around about the guardian angel thing. You tell me what you want and it's yours. I ask nothing of you, except that you give this asshole a chance. I've never spilled my fucking guts to any chick like this. I don't know what this affect you have over me is. I'm not hard up. I'm not trying to make a play. I want you to know that. Tell me that you know that."

"Negan, I'm trying. It's just been a crazy day and I'm scared."

"Of me?"

"Partially. I don't know you."

"I know, I know. I'm fucking sorry. I don't know what else to say. Let's go to sleep, angel."

I nodded and we laid down on the hard floor. He was mindful to keep his body away from me as much as he could. And there we were: Negan in his boxers and me in a t-shirt. I respected him for keeping his hands to himself, when I knew that they wanted to be on me—even if it was just holding my hands. He drifted off first, as I'd slept half the day away. I watched him for a bit. So many things were going through my mind. Was he for real? Saying all that stuff about me being his guardian angel. Was he just trying to get into my pants? Obviously not, or he would be in them at the moment. I don't know why, but I felt connected to this man. Why hadn't I gone to a dealership in West Virginia? Why had I chosen this one? It was a little closer, but I lived in a different state. Something had drawn me here. I think that something was Negan. At that moment, whether he was full of shit or not didn't matter. I knew that I would stay by his side. I knew that this wasn't going to be easy. I was scared out of my mind. I wished I could see my family. Maybe Negan would take me to them. Maybe we could find them, since he had the supplies. What a place to get supplies—auto parts, gas, bottles of water, new cars… it seemed perfect. We could run away from the masses. This was the terrain to do it in. There were tons of hollers in West Virginia and Virginia that nobody would bother to look in. We could really do this.

But, I couldn't jump into this. I needed to know if he was truly an ass out for ass or if this could work. But that could wait until tomorrow. I broke. I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead and whispered, "thank you." Then I kissed his cheek and thanked him again. I thought his eyes fluttered, but wasn't sure. When I moved in to his lips, I kissed them and said, "thank you."

Suddenly, his lips were on mine. He gave me a swift kiss and said, "No. Thank you." His eyes met my surprised eyes and he gave me his wicked grin. I was like a deer in headlights. "Ohhhh. So, we got caught, did we?" he laughed. I could only nod. And that's when the fear ameliorated. He adjusted himself so that he was propped on one elbow and leaning down to me.

"I'm not a fucking pussy. I don't understand this feeling. I am my own fucking man. But, boy, someone sent you to break me." And with that, he bent down and gently kissed me. You would never know that a single curse word had been uttered from those lips, as he tenderly kissed my lips over and over. I returned the favor, and soon our mouths and tongues were dancing. My hands cupped his face and he gently moved on top of me. He was ready— _really_ ready and, because of his size, that was not something that was easily ignored. But, I did my best. The first night was about our mouths and sweet nothings whispered to one another. I think there was a period of time where I never heard him utter the word "fuck" once. He would've easily given himself to me, and I to him, but after a long while, I told him that we needed to sleep. Surprisingly, he didn't argue, but instead asked if he was allowed to touch me. My heart nearly broke and I started kissing him again and nodded while I did. Once I calmed down, he wrapped himself around me—his chest to my back—and grabbed my right hand and kissed it.

"This is the first night of fucking forever," Negan whispered. And, he was right.


	3. The Joker and Harley

A/N I appreciate all of your praise. I have no idea what Kirkman is going to do with the Negan backstory comic, so I'm trying to beat him to the punch. I have it all played out in my head-it's just a matter of getting it down. I feel like this is slow- is it too slow? Also, I'm not a writer of dialogue, so apologies for any grammatical errors. Also, everything I've read on FanFiction involving sex has used odd terms (in my American mind)... so let me know if it's too raunchy or if I'm using inappropriate language. I know that this is an odd request, but I don't want to offend anyone. The chapter after this is pretty much, and it'll have more of the terms that I need help with...

I was sick of waking up not knowing where I was. Being disoriented was not how I liked to feel and I had been feeling that a lot since I'd entered the dealership. I soon realized that I was in Negan's office, except something was wrong. The door had been blocked by the couch and now the couch had been moved and the door was ajar. Panic permeated through my body. I looked down. I had on my tshirt from last night. I looked beside me. Negan was gone. What the hell? Had he left? It was like a horrible one-night-stand—leaving without even saying goodbye. But, we'd only kissed. I was certainly getting emotional a lot lately, but I guess there was a lot in the world to get emotional about. Just as I was about to get up, in lumbered the oh-so-fine Negan. He was still wearing only his boxers, but had managed to put on some socks. I caught myself gaping at him before the anger heated up my face. "Where were you?" I demanded.

"Chill, baby. I had to take a piss—I mean—I had to go _potty_."

"Shut up. You're a lousy bodyguard. What if something had come in the door while you were gone and I was asleep and I'd be dead and this is a nightmare," I rambled.

"Calm down, angel," Negan said as he shut the door. I took a look around and I was right—no one is in this fucking building and I don't think anyone is going to be coming this way."

"Did you go outside? What's it like out there?"

"I didn't, but if that buddy of mine is right, then they're gonna start bombing the fuck out of us soon."

"How long is soon?"

"Fuck if I know. Soon is soon. I just need to make sure we are somewhere that's not going to be fucking targeted."

"Oh, so you haven't given up on this whole guardian angel thing then?"

"Not by a fucking longshot," he grinned. "Now we have coffee, orange juice, pop… choose your poison. I, myself, shall have a piping hot cup of coffee. And m'lady?"

"I don't drink coffee."

"What the fuck? Who doesn't drink coffee?"

"I don't. But, speaking of beverages… um… yeah… potty?"

He laughed. It was contagious. His laughter warmed me. He looked like he was edible. He was one of the most gorgeous men I'd ever seen. He was literally the definition of "tall, dark, and handsome." I guess I had only glanced at him and made a note of it when he was being his loud self the day before, but he was one of the most gorgeous creatures that I'd ever seen. _That must mean he was stupid. He_ did _curse a lot._ But, after we returned from my potty break, I started to observe other things around his office, as well. He'd gone to a good college—two good colleges. He had his Masters degree. This was food for thought. What was his story and why wasn't this Adonis married with a family? Was he the male version of me? Heartbroken and putting on a smile for the masses. I sure hoped that his laugh was genuine. I hoped that he wasn't in any pain, because I knew how that felt. Why did I suddenly care about this guy when a few hours ago I was fearful that he'd rape or kill me? I just couldn't explain it.

"Hello?" He was blinking at me while I'd been lost in my thoughts. I'd have time (presumably) to figure out his past.

"Sorry. I was just thinking."

"'bout what? Morning wood? How you like to give head?"

"Oh. My. God. Okay, nice meeting you. Thanks for last night. Good luck." I turned around and made for the door, fully aware that I was wearing nothing buy my t-shirt. His giant body was blocking me from the door before you could say "penis."

He grinned. "Sorry. I guess I need to take it easy on you. But, a man can't help it with those dick sucking lips. Just trying to be fucking real."

"Yeah. I've been told that I have DSL many times. Thanks for making me feel special," I said flatly.

"Hey. I think it's a great fucking thing."

"I've heard _that_ before. And, yeah, great for you."

"I love to reciprocate." His eyes were liquid chocolate. He was a predator. I felt like he was about to pounce on me from his position at the door. I couldn't look at him. I had to get far away… as far away as his office allowed.

I sighed loudly and went back to the floor/ makeshift bed.

"Oh boy! Does this mean that we're gonna have a little pre-breakfast fun?" He sat down beside me.

"No, Negan. I had nowhere else to sit."

"You don't like being eaten out?"

"That's not it." I put my hands through my hair. "I love it, honestly. It's my favorite thing. I'm selfish and I hate to return the favor."

"That's not fucking cool," he protested.

"I only like to do it when I love the person, I'm high, or I'm really in the mood," I explained.

He burst out laughing. "What? You have those Goddamn perfect lips and you waste them?"

"You put a dick in your mouth and see how you like it."

"Point taken." More laughter. "So you like to receive and not give?"

I nodded.

"Would you like to receive right now? I fucking love pussy. I love the smell, the taste, the feel. Mmmm."

"Oh, so you get a lot of action? A manwhore?"

"Hey, looking the way you do, I could fucking accuse you of the same."

"Why are we even discussing this, Negan? I feel gross. I haven't showered. I'm really OCD when it comes to oral and not feeling clean and all that."

"Oh, but you'd fuck?"

He was testing my sanity—or what was left of it. "I don't know! I still smell like ass!"

"Let me be the judge of that." He started to come toward me and I pushed him away. He was taken aback and made a face as if I'd just slapped him. "Negan. Eat your breakfast. And, _I_ don't count as breakfast right now. If this were another time, another place..." I paused, looking at the floor. I wondered what had happened to that sweet man from last night. This was surely who he really was. But, then, just because he could apparently read my mind, he totally did a personality 180.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I'm a horny fuck. But, I also respect your boundaries. I want you to fucking trust me and I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. There's a shower a couple halls down and you can use it whenever you want. There's a lock on the door and I'll stand outside. I don't want to scare you or degrade you. That's not who I am. I put up a mask at times, but who you saw last night is who I am. I meant everything. No fucking bullshit. I am a lot of things, but I'm no liar. Do you trust me—or do you think you can?"

I think my eyes were as wide as saucers. Who was this guy? That was it. He had all this education, but was bipolar or schizophrenic or something. One minute he was obnoxious and then sweet and I wasn't sure what was up and what was down. I was starting to freak myself out again, when he lunged over and kissed me on the forehead. And, just like magic, the crazy thoughts were gone.

After we ate, he asked if I wanted to explore and possibly clean up. I agreed and we gathered up fresh t-shirts and towels, all with the Toyota logo, and headed down toward the showers. We dropped off our things and then I asked if I could see if my car was okay. He obliged and we looked out on it through a window. We didn't venture outside. Something inside me head told me not to. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, but I didn't want to think about it. As we were walking through the dealership, Negan was making sure the doors were still locked and was surveying the corridors like something might pop out at us at any second. I can't say I didn't appreciate that. I'm sure he'd done the same yesterday while I'd been passed out in his office. We were nearing the waiting area and he told me to just look at his face. He was chatty and kept my mind right on him. I knew it was because he didn't want me to see what was outside the ladies' restroom. He _was_ my protector. How in the hell did he think I was sent from Heaven? I then assumed that he was book-smart and that's why he'd gotten through college. Surely I had no value to him (except dick-sucking lips, and even then, I'd expressed that I wasn't going to do it). By the time we reached the showers, I was feeling beyond dirty and thanked God that Toyota had put in such facilities.

Negan led me through the door and pointed out where everything was stored. Then he said, "Now you go ahead and you can lock the door from the inside. I'll be waiting right out here. Take your time. If I have to wait an hour, I can do that. Okay?"

I nodded. But as I shut the door, my heart sank. I opened it back up as Negan was about to sit down. "Is everything alright?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Can you come inside and wait with the door locked?" I asked. He nodded and followed me in.

"Is this the part where you do the striptease for me?" he laughed. When I glared at him, he sat down on a bench and pretended to zip his lips. I wondered how long that would last. I giggled to myself.

"What?" he demanded.

"Nothing. I'm just ready for a shower." And with that I stepped inside and felt the hot water spray across my scalp.

I was lathering every part of my body, realizing that there was a mere curtain keeping Negan and I apart. I closed my eyes and started to think about him touching me and washing me. I imagined him worshipping me with his large hands and that smile of his as he did so. And then it happened. I moaned. I didn't mean to. I immediately knew that it was the worst thing I could've done… well, besides inviting him to be in the same room with me while I was showering. Not a second passed and I heard him move.

"Are you alright?" he shouted over the water.

"I'm fine," I tried to say in my most innocent voice. "Um, I was just—uh—wondering if I should brush my teeth while I'm in here."

"Oh." I could tell he didn't believe me for a second. "Well, I've got some Toyota-brand toothpaste and a toothbrush right here if you need it," he said.

"Um. Yeah. I'll do that. Kill two birds with one stone and whatnot. Uh. Can you hand it to me?" I slipped my hand outside the curtain and got a kiss on the hand before the toothbrush was given to me. I started brushing and almost choked on the toothpaste when my personal psychic asked, "So, what were you thinking about in there?"

"I told you. The tooth brushing."

"Listen. I told you I would never lie to you—even something as simple as that. I know you're full of shit so you need to just come clean and tell me now."

Wow. I didn't know what to do. Tell him I'd been fantasizing some sordid shower sex scene? That would be an open invitation for him to make it come true. I took a minute to think about the pros and cons of this outcome and I the pros definitely outweighed the cons—by a lot. So, I spoke up. "Okay, so I was thinking about brushing my teeth, but I was also thinkingaboutyouintheshowerwithme."

His voice was dark and sultry. "Oh really? Because that can be granted as soon as you say the word."

"No. I'm okay. I was just thinking about different things and I'm good now."

"I call bullshit. You were fantasizing about me in the shower and you fucking moaned."

I had no reply. I couldn't say that I _hadn't_ been. I didn't know what he would do. I didn't know what I would do. I held my breath for what seemed like forever until Negan finally said, "Yeah. I'll bet it was fucking hot."

I laughed. He'd made no play to get in the shower. He was really trying to gain my trust—I think. I still wasn't sure of his agenda, but he'd just scored major points. My head was grateful but the rest of my body hated me. I needed to let him use the shower, so I turned off the water and wrapped myself in my towel and stepped out—to see Negan wrapped only in a towel and wearing only his Cheshire cat grin.

"My angel has a naughty side… and I love it," he said as he strode past me. As I looked back around at him, he dropped the towel so I could see his spectacular ass sashay into the shower. At that moment, I wanted to kick myself for not inviting him in or at least not flirting with him. I didn't have to beat myself up for too long, because he called for me to grab one of the sponges that Toyota had supplied plenty of. As I went to hand it to him, he opened the shower curtain and I got the full view. He hadn't been covered much with his boxers and I'd already felt his length pressed against me the night before—but _this_? This was much different. And this was mouthwatering.

"You know, it's rude to stare," Negan laughed. I nodded and started to turn before he asked, "do you think you could help me wash my back? It's always so difficult." His tone was one of mock-pity and I knew this was a trap. But, I'd had enough of this cat and mouse game, so I stepped right in—literally. If we were going to be blown up, I wasn't going to waste any more time without his lips on me. I threw my towel out onto the floor, crossed my arms, and looked up at him.

"Holy fuck," he whispered. His eyes were huge and appraising every part of my naked flesh. He licked his lips. I don't know if it was involuntary of if he wanted me to see, but, either way, it was hot. We stood in silence, nothing but the sound of water and heavy breathing could be heard. I let him take it all in—well, almost all. My breasts are large, so I'd always covered myself with my arms folded over my chest. I was self-conscious. He was aware and asked, "May I see them?" His voice was deep and husky and I obliged. He gasped when I pulled my arms away. "Not to be crude, but you've got some fucking fine titties. Don't ever cover those in front of me again. Promise me."

I nodded and he smiled. His eyes glanced up from my exposed chest and looked at my face. He studied it with eyes that were so intense, I thought if I looked at him for one more second, my body would combust. I turned my head and he pulled it back to face his. I didn't make eye contact.

"What the fuck is wrong with you that you don't see how beautiful you are?" Negan asked.

"Stop."

"No. Really. You stop. You are so. Fucking. Lovely. I want to fuck you. I want to make love to you. I want to do everything in between." He knelt in front of me, water still cascading over his head. "Take me," he begged. "Let me be yours. I know I said all this last night, but I'll say it again. Whatever you want me to say. I sound like the biggest fucking pussy right now. This is not normal for me. You have bewitched me. Fuck!"

I didn't want to cry. I couldn't. I still couldn't trust anyone. I couldn't let anyone in… except my ex. I didn't know what my problem was. Maybe I could just give this man my body and he'd help me survive whatever hell was about to break loose. But, he looked like a damned movie star. I couldn't have that. It wasn't meant for me. My negative thoughts crossed out all of the positive that he kept pushing at me. I had to get out.

"I'm sorry, Negan." I got out of the shower and grabbed my towel from the floor. I ran for the door and bolted back toward his office. I must have taken a wrong turn, as I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the two bodies of what had been the bloodbath from the day before. I started to turn around and landed right into Negan's chest, which, luckily, smothered my scream. He put his arms around me and we walked back to the showers. He rinsed the soap off of himself, turned the water off, collected our things, and we went back to his office. He did his usual safety checks, blocked the door with the couch and sat naked on the floor, his back against the wall with his legs stretched out. I curled up in a ball where I'd slept the night before and pulled a blanket over me. We stayed this way, in silence for what could have been hours.

After he'd gathered his thoughts, Negan spat out, "I don't fucking get it."

"What don't you get? I don't trust anyone and someone so gorgeous isn't supposed to be saying those things to someone as mentally fucked up as me. If they're about to bomb the fuck out of us, why not get your kicks with the last woman around?"

"How many times do I have to fucking tell you? I have _never_ said what I said to you last night to anyone. Not even to get them to fuck me. I keep telling you this and you seem okay, then you are running. If I thought I had a heart, it'd be breaking."

"I'm the one with the fucked up heart."

"Listen, you're fucking nuts. Good thing I am, too. The Joker and Harley Quinn. Here we _fucking_ are. I don't care if you doubt my fucking theory, but I don't. You are here and I am here. So, get over it and fucking realize that you're _beautiful_ and that I don't _have_ to be here with you. I could've left yesterday and you wouldn't have known I'd been here at all. I'll give you all the space you need. I will give you your own office and I'll stand guard outside. Just give me a fucking _chance_. I meant what I said about killing your ex. He did a fucking number on you. But, I guess that's a good thing, because if he hadn't fucked you up so badly, you'd have found someone by now and I never would've met you."

"Fuck you, Negan! I'd slap you, but I've never slapped anyone in my life."

"Do it."

"No. That's not me."

"It's going to have to be you if you want to fucking survive out there. Do it." He moved closer to me and took my wrist. "Fucking _do it now_ ," he hissed.

I slapped him the best I could. I'm sure it wouldn't leave a mark, but as soon as I'd done it, he was on top of me. He was still naked and the blanket was barely covering me at that point. He quickly tore that away, so we were skin-on-skin. His kissing was relentless. He poured his frustration and anger all over my mouth, down my neck and across my chest. He found one nipple and sucked on it gently while his hands massaged the other. I moaned and he laughed. "Thinking about that toothbrush again?" he asked. I ignored his comment and let him have his way with my chest.

I shouldn't have run. I should be doing this non-stop—in the shower, on the floor, morning, noon, and night. I was a fool and he'd called me out on it. He knew I was damaged, but apparently he was, too. I wasn't sure if I loved him or hated him, but his fingers were magic and, although I'd only done it a couple times before, I was building toward an orgasm merely from his breast play.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered. That was enough to undo me.

"Holy fuck. I'm glad we had towels," he laughed. He wiped up my mess as best he could, then bent down and kissed me. I stroked his wet hair and said, "Sorry I slapped you… and, um, I'm not done. I have multiples." My wicked grin matched his.


	4. After The Chest Comes The Rest

A/N: This is definitely short and SWEET. As I'd asked, please tell me if I'm being too descriptive or not descriptive enough. It's a slippery slope.

Negan's eyes gleamed and he fisted his hands in my hair. This was bliss. I could just be with Negan until the end of time… if they bombed us, maybe I'd die with him on top of me. At that point I didn't care because if he was that good with his mouth and fingers on my chest and mouth, I couldn't wait to see what his other parts were capable of.

"So, what happens now?" he asked. I knew he was afraid that if he made the wrong move I'd flee, as I had in the shower.

"Um… I don't know? I mean… I'm good, but I can be good a few more times," I laughed.

"Well then, since you don't like the sucky, how 'bout the fucky?"

"Negan, I think you are the most romantic man I've ever met," and rolled my eyes. With that, he roared with laughter, and as he was still basically on top of me, I shook along with him. He kissed my forehead and rolled over on his side. "Besides, one minute I'm slapping you, then you're on top of me. Not that I said no, but you are just a lot to take in."

"Oh, so you _were_ staring," he grinned.

"I didn't mean _that_ —even though that _is_ a lot. I meant all of you—all of this," and gestured my hand around the office.

"I'd apologize if I _thought_ I took advantage of you, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't love every second of it and every second you pay attention to me. I felt electricity there. Was I wrong?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I put my arm over my eyes and just let the cold air touch my naked flesh. I knew he was taking in my body, studying every curve, every imperfection. I didn't know if I should feel grateful for this gorgeous man paying attention to me or if I should be embarrassed of my not-perfect body. I felt his hand move across my hipbone. He started rubbing it then moved to the other side. "You've got some birthing hips there, baby."

"Again. Your seduction skills amaze me," I said. "Yes, I have giant hips. Thanks for reminding me. I have a giant ass and giant boobs. It's all just fat."

"It's all just sexy as hell. Do you have any fucking idea all the things I'm thinking about doing to you?"

"Nope, but I'm sure you're going to describe them so romantically," I sighed. "Is that why you say 'fuck' a lot—because that's all you do? You aren't romantic?" He _had_ been quite romantic at times in the past day, but still.

"You fucking wound me. So, you want to _make love_? My angel shall have whatever she wants. I will take her beautiful body and worship it as she wishes, but only if she permits me to do so by saying yes. After she tires of my tongue, fingers, and cock, maybe she'll let me grab her hips and fuck her from behind."

I gasped. He merely laughed. But his words and his velvet voice did have an effect on me. As I tried to think of a comeback, I could only gasp again, as his hand had traveled down my pubic area and slipped a finger between my pink lips. "Ohhhh. Someone seems to like the idea of being worshipped—or is this wetness because I say 'fuck'? Hmm. What does my princess want?" Another finger slid inside of me. Another gasp.

"Hmm? You have nothing to say, my princess? No idea of what you want your love slave to do to you?" He started making a slow series of circles on my clit with his finger.

"Love slave?" I laughed. "Um, yeah. That's really lame. You're. You're not my love. Love slave." I was having a difficult time expressing my thoughts. I could only moan softly and spread my thighs wider to give him more access to my most private of areas. I was so sexually charged that talk was overrated at this point. But not for Negan—he never shut up. Not even in the most intimate of moments.

He was on top of me again, but his fingers were still working my throbbing pussy over. He whispered, "I am yours. I am whatever you want me to be. And, right now, I really hope that you want me to be your love slave—your sex slave. Just something that involves me touching you. For fuck's sake!" He was kissing me and his free hand moved my arm from my face so that I would look at him. His other hand kept working its magic. His fingers were gentle, caressing my folds and moving in and out of me. I sighed contently and he raised an eyebrow at me. I closed my eyes and nodded. His fingers slipped out of me, but I didn't have time to protest. He'd gotten his "yes." His lips were on mine, as well as his body. I could feel the length of his manhood and he was huge. For a split second, I wasn't sure if this was going to be a good idea—this could hurt. But the thought drifted as I tasted Negan's tongue in my mouth.

He kissed every part of my face his lips could find —up my neck, my eyebrows, my nose, my eyes (which made me giggle). He was consuming me. This bliss lasted for a while before Negan spoke up. "What do you want?" he whispered.

"You," was all I could reply. He stopped everything and gazed down at me, almost puzzled. I continued, "Yes. I know we can debate whether I want your body or you as a person or this or that. I know that look. I'm usually the one giving that look." The look questioned what I meant when I said that one magical word—it could mean his body or his soul and everything in between. I knew that I needed the former and, with some luck, I'd get the latter.

"So, fuck?" was all he could manage. I nodded with a smile on my face. Before you could say "love slave," Negan was sitting on top of me, positioning his giant cock in between my legs. "Are you sure that you want this?" he asked.

"Only if you do," was my reply. He closed his eyes with that and after about 20 seconds (perhaps he was praying?), he inserted himself into me. I moaned loudly. He was so big. I wasn't sure that all of Negan was going to fit, but damn did he feel good. He layed back down on top of me in a missionary position, with his elbows propping him up so that he could touch my face and chest. For some reason, I had a feeling missionary wasn't his style, but he seemed quite content, so I didn't suggest anything else.

"Look at me," he commanded softly. My eyes met his and only then did he start to move. He started out slowly, gliding in and out of me. He never broke eye contact.

He pumped in and out of me slowly, so I could get used to his size. I figured he'd rather be going crazy—he just seemed like the type to like it rough and wild. But, maybe because he thought I was truly his guardian angel, he was afraid of breaking me. I got lost in his gaze. We said nothing; only the occasional moan from either of us broke the otherwise silent room. It was just breath and eye contact and our bodies, pushing against each other, as he continued his rhythm of oh-so-slow decadent pumping. I hadn't felt this way in a long time. It felt like I was where I was meant to be. An unwarranted tear went down my cheek and he immediately haulted his movement. "Am I hurting you? Do you want to stop" he asked as his thumb wiped away the tear.

I shook my head slowly. "No," I said. I couldn't think of how to explain so all that came out was, "I like this. I like you."

Negan pressed his forehead to mine and inhaled deeply. "Me, too," he said. He looked down at me, kissed my lips and began to move again.

I tried not to think, to just observe. I was aware of his beauty. The way his dark hair was tousled, as he looked down on me. The way beads of sweat were beginning to brim on his forehead and nose. His perfect teeth and lips and how aroused I became when he'd lick his lips. I was in love with facial hair, so the fact that he had a stubbly beard across his perfect jawline only made him more attractive. I took my time and studied every inch of the perfection that was Negan's face.

But those eyes. His dark, mysterious eyes could make your panties wet with the right look. His eyes penetrated me as much as his cock did. His eyes were pulling me in, in ways that went beyond the physical. As we pushed back on one another's bodies, our eyes mirrored pushing ourselves into each other's souls.

After his face had been imprinted in my brain, I bit my lip and blinked up at him. He stopped moving, and he looked a bit alarmed. "Are you hurting? You're so fucking tight. I mean, I fucking love it and I'm trying to be gentle but I don't want to hurt you and—"

"Negan. It's okay. I was going to tell you that you could be harder or speed up or whatever you want to do." Oh my, the devil was peering back at me in his dark, dark eyes.

"How hard?"

"Well, I won't break. I might get sore, but…" I was ready to tell him to just "go for it," but with a cock that size, I decided I might want to be able to walk the next day. I didn't have time to answer, because he started plunging in much faster and bent down to kiss me.

I'd awakened the beast—or at least uncaged him. And he'd been waiting patiently for a little too long it seemed.

"Oh. Fuck. Negan," was all I could say. He was pounding me in an excruciatingly delicious way. I could only hold on to his neck and arms as he spiraled my body upward. He was taking me to the heavens and in his quick thrusts I finally gave out, my liquids literally pushing him out of me.

"That's fucking hot. You pushed me out. Do it again."

"Negan. I don't know if I can cum on command."

"Something we'll work on," he grinned.

I felt bad that we were still positioned in a missionary-style, only with a leg up here or there at times, and I told him as much but he just shook his head and shushed me. He stopped a moment to run his fingers through his hair, flash me a wicked grin, then he was back inside, doing what he did best. He was like a drug to me. He varied his rhythm… from slow and sweet to fast, so fast that all you heard was the smacking of his balls on my ass and moaning. It was more pleasurable that I ever could have conceived—and I'd had thoughts of this gorgeous man. He delivered much more than I'd ever bargained for.

His cock remained slick, due to my cum and he was happy about that—or at least his moans made me think so. After pushing him out with my orgasms three more times, he asked, "Is it my turn?" I was in ecstasy and nodded vigorously. The smile I received would've outshone any Christmas tree I'd seen. He slid back inside and he'd apparently been holding out because it didn't take him much time to unravel. He pumped harder and harder inside of me, while his eyes were locked on mine. "Do you know what you've done?" he breathed.

"N-nn-n-no."

"You've confirmed it all. Those. Fucking. Huge. Titties. Your. Gorgeous. Lips. Your. Wet. Pussy. You. Belong. With. Me. You're. So. Beautiful." And, with one loud scream of "my fucking angel," I felt his hot liquid shoot inside of me. He was sated.

After a few moments, he gently lifted himself out and off of me, but then laid himself next to me with his head on my chest. We rested in post-coital harmony, warm flesh on flesh, his sweat merged with mine. I hadn't noticed earlier, but it was raining outside. A few orgasms mixed with the sound of rain was paradise. I moved my hand up and down the arm that was draped across me and I fell into a peaceful sleep, aware that I was the most content I'd been in a very long time.


	5. Thunder

A/N I guess this wasn't working for some of you (meaning, you couldn't see it). Hopefully it will now. I feel like this is slowly paced, but idk... I'm enjoying myself. Robert Kirkman can come get some ideas for Negan's official backstory if he'd like! haha Comments...

Negan was snoring lightly when I came to. This was a first. Usually I was the one to wake up to him examining me. I didn't want to move. Every worry had been washed away and I was in a calm, wonderful place. We had melted together perfectly. I could still feel where he'd been inside me, but I was certain that I'd get used to it—and hoping that I'd even _have_ other opportunities for him to be inside me.

It was still raining outside and his head was still on my chest. Seeing his long dark lashes closed and his lips so close to my nipple made desire swell up inside of me. My body betrayed every warning I gave it to keep still, as I shuddered and suddenly those perfect lashes fluttered.

"Fuck, I was drooling on your tits." Annnnd Negan was awake.

"It's okay. You've kinda done it before." I laughed.

He rolled onto his back and stretched. "Soooo… how was I?"

"I'm not even going to answer that. I think you know. I think I told you. I think you're just trying to get me to stroke your ego."

"Perhaps. But, for me? Fucking fuckity fuck. That was some good shit. But, what was that about stroking?"

"I'm so glad that Romantic Negan is back."

"Sorry, baby." He rolled back against me and inhaled. "It smells like sex in here. I wanna bottle you up so I can smell you wherever I go."

I sighed. I was about to suggest a shower when a crack of lightening and the loudest thunder I'd ever heard filled the air. We both sat up. The post-coital happiness would have to wait.

"Negan, that was thunder, right?"

"Baby, as far as I know, it was." He was assessing me with his eyes, not in a sexual manner, but more of a protective state. I knew what was going through his head. It was the same question that I was asking myself: had they started bombing the cities?

I just started rambling, "This timing sucks. I miss my parents. I don't know how to shoot a gun. What am I going to do? I don't have extra clothes. I can't go back to my apartment. They'll take us all away. What if I don't even have an apartment to go to? I need to call my Dad. He'll know what's going on."

Negan rummaged through the stash of goodies and gave me a t-shirt. I grabbed my bag and searched for my cell phone. It was dead. "My phone's dead," I said as I just kept staring at it. It didn't make sense. I hadn't been using it during my time at the dealership.

"You can use my office phone," Negan offered. I walked up to his desk and picked up his phone. No dial tone. It was dead, too. As with my cell phone, I just stared at it. Then I looked over at him. He was getting up and turned on a lamp. It lit up. "See? Nothing to worry about. The power's still on. I'm sure the lightening has just hit a fucking phone line or something like that."

"So, I can charge my phone." It wasn't a question as much as it was a statement. It was my only connection to my parents at the moment.

"Of course, my love. Do you have a charger? We have tons here. Even if we have to turn on a fucking car and use a car charger to charge it we will, okay?" he soothed.

I nodded. I noticed that after he'd turned on the lamp, he had begun dressing. He walked over to the desk where I was. He kissed me passionately. I was taken aback, but acquiesced to his lips. He then put his hands on my shoulders and looked down at me very seriously. "I need to take care of some things. I need to know if they've started bombing. The best weapon you can have is knowledge. I want you to fucking remember that."

"The best weapon I can have is knowledge," I repeated.

"Good," he continued. "Now, I have to go outside. I have to make sure my shit is stocked, protected, and ready to go, should we need to leave quickly. I've also got to hide the truck. I don't know what's out there, but my buddy told me about some riots and I know I'd go to a fucking car dealership and grab myself a new set of wheels if chaos was fucking breaking out."

No sooner than he'd said it, he saw the terror wash over my face. Luckily, his grip was still on my shoulders or I might have sunk to the floor. He knew what he'd done and winced. He tried to repair the damage. "However, this place is kinda in the middle of fucking nowhere, so we're pretty safe here," he said. "Look at all the trees and forests and shit that surround us. And there's a huge fence with barbed wire all around the majority of the fucking property. See? We're fucking good. We're not in downtown D.C. or one of those fucking areas. We're fucking good, baby."

"Negan. I appreciate all your nobility. But, I'll get you killed. I'll slow you down. I'm not a warrior. You said you'd protect me, but I cannot ask that of you. I will not ask that of you. You are just as noble if you let me go."

His tone turned harsh. "This isn't fucking open for discussion. I'm fucking strong enough for the both of us. I'm sorry that I've scared you, but this is fucking reality now. I'm going to contact my guy, but first I'm going to have a look around. That's why I need this." He took his hands off of my shoulders and reached over and opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a giant gun. It wasn't a rifle, but it looked scary. I didn't ask him what kind it was. I didn't need to know. He put the ammo in and looked at me. "I'm going to teach you how to use every weapon I fucking own. I'm fucking lethal. You will survive this. We will survive this. That sex was too fucking good not to have you by my side." His grin was what was lethal. Even at my most fearful, he was fine. I'm not sure I wanted to know how he was so calm. Another thought I'd bury in the vault for another time.

He continued, "I'm going to have to go outside. I don't want you out there with me. I don't know what else to do except lock you up in my office. I have a lot of shit to take care of and it would make me feel a lot better knowing you were safe. I'm going to lock the building. I'm going to grab the last bit of supplies and get the fucking truck ready to go. I'm moving it to a place around back that's pretty clear, but still covered by the forest. I think I should go ahead and lock the gate, too. There are plenty of cars outside the gate. Let the fuckers hotwire cars; they aint getting inside this building to get the keys. I'm also gonna try to contact my buddy and see what the fuck is going on with the military."

I just nodded as he told me all of this. At one point, I wanted to ask how he was going to talk with his buddy—maybe this was an imaginary friend he had—I still hadn't ruled out that, good sex or no, Negan was crazy. I wanted to ask if I could bring my own car. That made sense—the more cars, the merrier. Then I began to think that it'd be best if he were in charge. Motorhome. We should've gotten a motorhome. My mind was wandering from vehicle to vehicle when Negan's voice cut in, "Are you okay with that?"

"I have no choice, do I?"

"No, baby. I'm sorry."

"Then, I'm okay with it. But, what about another vehicle? Should we take more than one? More room for supplies? Sorry. I was just thinking."

"I know. You're a smart girl for planning ahead. But, I've got this shit. We can talk when I get this shit done. Now, get yourself something to eat. Do you need to potty before I go?" I did, so he escorted me down and back.

As he was shutting the door to his office with me inside, I stated, "I don't like you leaving when it's raining outside and you can't hear as well."

" _What_? Is this you saying you _care_ about me? _Oh my goodness_!" It was Negan trying to be as Southern belle as he could, but it just wasn't working. I was a big ball of stress.

"Negan. You know I care so shut the hell up and listen to me. Do NOT get yourself killed by a stupid mistake. Do NOT think you're invincible. Do NOT let someone sneak up on you. Do NOT just do not…" I trailed off and frowned, irritated. This huge man had survived long before I'd come into the picture. He'd live to see tomorrow, I was certain of that.

"Chin up, baby. After sex like that, you think I won't be back for seconds? I'll be just fine," he crooned. And with a swift kiss on the cheek and a wink, he shut the door and yelled, "Lock it and ONLY unlock it if it's me, but I've got keys, so you don't need to wait up for me." And he was gone.

The thunder continued as I ate my gourmet meal of snack cakes, chips, and a Coke, which was surprisingly still cold _as a witches fucking titty_. Those coolers worked pretty well. I had no idea of the time and the dark clouds and rain had taken out the sun. I couldn't hear Negan, but I did listen for gunshots. After my meal, I went back to my thoughts of survival and how to get to my parents. Then I remembered: my phone! I needed to charge it. I needed to talk to my parents and figure out how to get to them—or find out if their small town had been rounded up and herded off yet. Surely not. But, the more I thought about it, the more I thought that my parents were gone. I thought about my mom, a diabetic. Would she get her medicine? What about my dad? He was an open-heart surgery survivor. He had tons of meds, too. I felt hopeless. I couldn't do anything from where I sat. I knew better than to go search for a phone charger. I was already smart enough to know that Negan would kill me if I left the office. In addition to feeling hopeless, I felt helpless. I grabbed a neck pillow and layed down on the floor—the floor that had been my home for the past day—and began to sob.


	6. Massages

The flickering of a lone candle illuminated Negan's office. Beside it, there were a few wildflowers. He was back? The room was silent, except for the rain that was still pounding on the roof. I looked around and saw no evidence that Negan was there, except that he'd possibly come in while I was asleep to drop off the flowers and candle. I was a little perplexed. I sat up and felt tension radiate through my body. I also felt the soreness from the earlier _love_ -making. I wondered if I could walk without pain.

I stood up and started to stretch. After all, in addition to the huge dick I'd had to deal with, I'd been sitting and sleeping on a hard floor for the past day and a half. I was rolling my neck and then started to reach toward the ceiling. As I did so, my t-shirt went up with my body and was barely covering my ass. Suddenly, I was really missing Negan. He'd have some lewd comment about that stretch. Apparently, prayers were being answered, as I heard the door unlock and the doorknob twist. I looked toward the door and in walked Mr. America, wrapped only in a towel. Unaware that I was doing so, I ran into his arms and hugged him the moment I heard the door click shut.

"Whoa! Baby must've liked her flowers. Happy to see me?"

I nodded and moved my arms from his neck, down his chest, to his cock. "Apparently, we're happy to see each other." I licked my lips.

 _That_ took Negan by surprise. I was actually being aggressive. He recovered within a split second and growled, "Oh you saucy fucking wench. I'm going to devour you."

"Mmm-hmm," I nodded as I removed my hand and put my arms back around his neck. "I'm glad you're back. And, we need to talk."

He kissed me on the forehead and sighed loudly. "Ut oh. Are you breaking up with me?" he laughed.

I didn't know where to start. I pulled him to the floor and sat down beside him. "Here, come get something to eat or dry off or whatever you need to do. And, thank you for the flowers. Are you tired? How long were you gone? I've lost track of time these past couple days. Do you need me to get you another towel?" I couldn't stop talking. I was hyped up on the stress and worry about my parents and I wanted this beautiful distraction to hurry up and distract me—or at least tell me what I might be able to do about my parents.

"Fuck. Slow down. Are you okay?"

"Honestly?" I asked. "I'm not. I wanted to charge my cell phone while you were gone."

His face turned to stone. "You didn't leave this room, did you? Because you promised that you wouldn't."

"No. I knew you'd be pissed if I did. I just started to think about my parents and where they were." Tears were welling in my eyes and my voice had started to quiver.

"Awe, baby," Negan said. He pulled me into his lap and I nuzzled my face into his chest. "Honestly, I'm not hungry because I ate while you were asleep. I was gone for a few hours. Were you asleep the entire time I was out?"

I nodded against his chest. "I was worn out. I started thinking about my parents and I just couldn't stop crying. I told you, I'm not strong. Am I going to see them again? Are we going soon? Did you talk to your buddy?"

"So many questions and so many difficult answers," he sighed again. "I honestly don't fucking know what we are going to do about your parents. We can talk about this later."

"Why later? What happened while you were gone?"

"There's no use in charging your cell phone. It's not going to work. But, we're safe here. We've got a fucking good thing here. You're gonna fucking make fun of me again, but, you were sent to keep me safe—from leaving this place. Staying right here has kept us safe. No one is going to fucking touch us—and we have reinforcements coming."

I looked him square in the face. "What are you talking about? Someone's coming here? When?" I asked. I'd started to panic. "And we're not leaving? I thought you said that you'd follow me anywhere and help me find my parents?" My voice was getting higher and higher with every word.

"I know. And, my heart is going to fucking break if I can't get you to them. Please let me try to see if we can, but do you want to survive or do you want to risk your life just to see if they're still alive?"

"I would die for them!" I couldn't hold it in. My tears started pouring out.

He pressed my head to his chest and whispered, "I'm yours. I will die for _you_. If you want to be stubborn and go, we can discuss it, but I don't think it's a good idea."

My breathing grew frantic. He started to rub my back. He whispered, "I _did_ talk to my buddy. He's coming here in a couple days. After that, we're fucking golden. I promise you, we'll have military power behind us. And, once they get here, we might have the means to get in touch with your parents. We're going to be so much better off than all the fuckers in the cities. Just think about this. I want you alive. Now, where's that girl that was so fucking happy to see me?"

I sniffled. "She's here," I said, bleakly.

"Oh, that sounded _so_ believable. Were you really missing me or were you just missing this hot bod of mine?"

I didn't laugh. "Before we do anything else, I need to know who this mystery military contact is and what is going down. I can't live without knowledge. You said yourself that the most powerful weapon is knowledge, so right now, I'm not so powerful."

Negan grinned. "You're right. I'm glad you remembered. But, I'm sorry. It's classified," he said.

"I thought I was your partner-in-crime at this point, or is this just something to pass the time until you find the next temptation on the road—not that we will even end up on the road. Hell, maybe there will be rioters and you can pick the cutest girl from the crowd and invite her in for some sanctuary," I spat.

"You realize all these questions and all this talk makes me want to shut you up. Maybe I should switch tactics and ram my dick in your mouth. Will that shut you up?"

I was affronted. Negan just laughed. But, I was starting to really get pissed. I think he picked up on my vibe—a wonderful trick he'd learned in the short time we'd been together—and suddenly got serious… well, serious in a Negan-kind of way. "Okay. Sorry 'bout that. I guess you don't love me, aren't high, or aren't in the mood. Damn. I need to find some fucking weed." He laughed a deep, hearty laugh.

My mood still hadn't changed. He grabbed my hand and kissed it. "Sorry, baby. I have a really great idea. I'll get you in a better mood. Lay down."

"You can't just be a total dick and then try to put the moves on me!"

" _Me_? A dick? _Never_. Oh, and I'm afraid you have no idea what you're fucking in for, my beautiful angel. But, if you don't want to take directions, I can help." With that, he kissed my lips and ran his hands down my back to the bottom of my t-shirt. "Hands in the air, please," Negan commanded. I did as I was told and he pried the shirt off of me. "Ah. Now there's a million-dollar pair of titties." He grabbed at them and squeezed, appraising with his eyes. I just blushed.

"Okay, what do I have to do now? What's on your nasty mind?" I asked. I was still angry. Horny, but angry.

"Lots of things," he admitted. "But there's something specific I'd like to do. Don't make me spoil it. Just lay on your stomach, please."

"Ohhhh. Please say I get a massage."

"Fucking mind-reader. Get on your damn stomach."

Oh, this was going to be bliss. His hands were so big and my body was so tense. It was a match made in Heaven. I suddenly switched from anger to anticipation. He knew how to distract. He knew how to please. The rain was still going strong and so was the candle. A candle-lit massage from Negan? Yes, please. There before him, I lay, naked and tense. I put my face down into the neck pillow and put my arms out to my sides, the day's frustrations trapped in the clinching of my shoulders.

I heard him get up and walk over to his desk. He opened a drawer then closed it. My mind wondered what he was doing. I didn't have to wonder long, as I heard him walk back, sit down, and felt a cold glob of wetness land in the middle of my back. I squeaked. It was a shock to my fragile system. He had lotion in his office— _of course he had lotion_. He probably masturbated non-stop. I felt a large, warm hand begin to rub the lotion in gently.

He started by barely making contact, just letting the skin drink in the moisture from the lotion. It was cool on my skin, but the heat rising in my groin was growing. Negan climbed on my ass, sat down, and began to really work on my back and shoulders. His hands were manly and rough, yet light as he gently teased me with his fingernails lightly scratching every inch available to him. He found my pressure points and deeply massaged the stress away. He dug deeper with his hands and his thumbs intensified the pressure. I couldn't help but moan. It felt so good and he was focused totally on my pleasure and taking care of my needs. I felt guilty for a second, but then got lost in the thoughts of Negan's huge hands rubbing all over my back and shoulders, not to mention the erection pushing onto me. He began to focus his attention on places that were carrying the most tension. My moans continued. Surprisingly, he didn't ask how I felt or say _anything_.

He scooted down to sit on my legs and squirted lotion all over my bare ass. "Mmmm. That just looks so hot." Leave it to Negan to not stay quiet for long. I didn't care. His hands went to work on my ass. He squeezed and scratched and suddenly, gave one cheek a slap. "Ouch!" I yelped.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I couldn't resist. You have no idea how hard this is on me. I'm doing my best. Fuuuuuck. I want that to be my cum all over your ass. Mmmmm. That ass is so _fine_." He continued to knead my ass and occasionally he'd let a grunting noise escape. I can only imagine what was going through his head. I smiled to myself. He moved his body further down and massaged my thighs then moved down to my calves.

Negan began to massage my right foot and I moaned. He started at my heel and licked the length of my foot. He repeated this with the left foot. He then covered my feet in lotion and drew his hands up and down each foot, squeezing and taking the strain out all the way to the tips of my toes. This was pure bliss. He moved back up my calves then back to the thighs.

I was so relaxed and he knew it. He was ready to test me. He slipped a finger between my pink lips. I whimpered in pleasure. His experienced fingers started those excruciatingly slow circles on my clit. I began to moan softly. He really knew how to make a girl relax, I'd give him that. With two fingers inside of me, he whispered, "so wet. Wet for _me_."

He kept up the assault on my pussy with his fingers for a few minutes and then withdrew them. He grabbed my hips and turned me over. I know I was flushed from his touch, but I was certain he couldn't tell in the candlelight. He crawled up to my face and stuck one of his fingers in my mouth. I could taste myself on him. Still not a word from Negan. He was in his own world—a world that was made up of exploring my body and sexual deviance. I sucked on the finger and he grinned at me. He removed the finger and replaced it with his tongue. His hands caressed my face so carefully, as if I was a porcelain doll.

He started to descend down my neck and to my chest. I thought I'd hear a comment about my "titties," but he was still silent. Instead he sucked my nipple while teasing my other nipple with his nimble fingers. I moaned and thought I would release but before I could, he'd swiftly begun to move down my stomach. My breathing became ragged. He was still massaging me with his strong hands. He tenderly rubbed my stomach and hips while he gazed up and down my body.

Negan squirted a bit more lotion into his hands and rubbed them together to warm the lotion. He began to massage my inner thighs. I let out a moan. He was full of control and moved himself so that he was in between my legs. He spread them open wide and took the palm of his hand and placed it on top of my pussy. He looked in wonder at his hand. I had no idea what was going through his head, nor what he was up to. He began to massage my pubic mound and began to edge closer to me.

Finally he spoke. "Do you know how beautiful you are?" he asked. I'm not sure if he was concerned with my answer, as his head was suddenly in between my legs, kissing and licking my inner thighs. He stopped and just stared at my most intimate area, his look was one of raw emotion. He was studying every inch of me. He then, to my utter embarrassment, rubbed his entire face back and forth across my pussy several times and inhaled deeply. His stubbly beard against my tender flesh was divine. Negan looked up at me and asked, "Do I look drunk? Because your scent is intoxicating." I didn't know whether to worship him or die of mortification. I could only plaster a stupid grin on my face.

Negan went back to studying my anatomy. He gently caressed the folds of my lips. His touch was velvety soft. He then took his thumb and began to trace my clit with it. He moved it in those circles that drove me wild. He watched as I squirmed under his touch. His wicked smile appeared. His mouth soon took the place of his thumb. My body betrayed me and my wetness flowed out, inviting him to continue.

While he had one hand working inside me, his other hand went from massaging my inner thigh to grabbing my breast to holding my hand. I was swept up in the feel of his tongue on my clit and his hands on my warm skin. I couldn't keep quiet. He was kissing my clit, licking it up and down. He flicked his tongue and ran circles and lines all over me. I moaned and screamed "fuck" more times than I could count. I have no idea how many times I came, but found myself grinding into his face and occasionally grabbing his head. I could feel his smile as he was drinking up my juices. He was having a grand time. I couldn't get enough of him touching me with his tongue. The texture was divine and I came easily from his techniques.

Negan pinched my clit between his lips and sucked, using his tongue to gently stimulate me. I knew I was flowing all over face, but he didn't mind. He moved his fingers inside while sucking my clit and my fingers were suddenly pulling his hair, screaming "FUUUUCK." I came all over his face.

"That was fucking awesome," he breathed. He started to go back down but I had to say no. I was shivering; tremors shooting through my body. I was spent. He'd drunk from the fountain between my legs and had loved it. He crawled up to meet my lips. "Do you want to taste yourself?" He didn't wait for a reply; his tongue was in my mouth and his hands cradled my face. He finally broke off his kiss and just gave me an approving look.

"What?" I asked.

"Thank you," was all Negan said as he flopped down beside me, grabbed me close and closed his eyes.

God. I owed him. Big time.


	7. Jerry

Negan was snoring loudly. I couldn't sleep—perhaps because I'd slept most of the day while he was out working with his manly hands or doing God knows what. I'd drifted off after my multiple-orgasm fest, courtesy of the man sleeping beside me, but something woke me up—I had to pee. There was no way that I was going to wake him up. He was so peaceful laying there. I didn't need to bother him because of my bladder. He'd kill me if he knew that I went alone, but it was time to be brave. He said he'd locked up the place and that everything was good. At this point, I knew how to get to the different restrooms—and knowledge was my weapon, just like he'd told me.

So, as quietly as I could (and I didn't have to be that quiet because his snoring would wake the dead), I got up and tiptoed to the door. I debated whether or not to even put on clothes, as we were the only two in the building, so I just grabbed one of the Toyota beach towels that we'd been using, wrapped it around myself, and slipped out the door.

I crept down the hallways, happy that my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. I found the shower room and flipped on the light switch. The light flickered on and I dropped my towel and headed for the toilet. Just in time. I had almost been in Pee Pee Pants City. I was feeling good—I'd had multiple orgasms and I was much less sore than I'd been a few hours before. However, I was feeling sticky. I hadn't showered after any of our escapades. I pondered for a moment. He'd sleep through a really quick shower. I could do this. We were safe. If I could just be in and out, I'd be fine. So, I locked the restroom door, turned on the water and jumped in. I was mindful to be quick. My long hair was washed and rinsed in record time. I was sponging myself off when I heard a pounding at the door. Oh fuuuuuuck. I'd been caught. Negan was going to kill me. The door sounded like it was about to be kicked in, so I yelled, "Hold on! I'm almost done! Chill the fuck out! I'm sorry."

I turned off the water and the banging was still happening. God, Negan had one hell of a temper. Was he going to spank me? I knew I'd be yelled at, but perhaps I could twist the spanking to my advantage. I wrapped the towel around myself and yelled, "Okay, I'm here. You are _so_ possessive." I twisted the lock and pulled the handle open to—not Negan. It was like that little boy, except it was big. It was growling or making some raspy sound. It looked like it was a man, but it was rotting, with its mouth hanging open. It was reaching for me. I slammed back against the door as hard as I could and screamed at the top of my lungs. The door wouldn't shut. The arms were caught in the door and were trying to press through— _to me_. And I was wet and slippery and the floor was tile, so I didn't have much traction.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, "NEGAN! HELP ME! NEGAN!" I knew it was a wasted effort. He was out cold and two hallways away. Oh fuck. What if this thing wasn't alone? I'd left his door ajar. And he was snoring loudly—they would hear him. I was so stupid.

"NEGAN!" And still the thing wouldn't stop grabbing at me. I kept slamming the door on it, trying to get it to move back. I was sliding to the floor. My towel had already fallen off of me. I didn't care. I was naked, fighting a monster. Who would've guessed that this was everyday life? I started to laugh. I was so scared that I just laughed, knowing I was about to be eaten and bloody like the woman I'd seen not even two days ago. I sat against the door and hoped that my giant ass would prove to be enough weight to hold off the thing. Maybe if I launched the towel at it, I could make a run for it. Nope, that wouldn't end well. I knew that I was not a fast runner, and was definitely not a fast runner when my feet were barefoot and wet.

I kept slamming my back against the door, making sure that it couldn't get anything else inside. I tried to think. Negan said knowledge was my most powerful weapon. But, I didn't have any knowledge about this. Thinking was difficult with that raspy noise so near. How had Negan gotten it to stop? He'd shot it in the head. Okay. I had no gun. My knowledge was worthless. I had no power. The only thing I had was time. If it was just this thing, I could wait it out. Negan would eventually wake up and come for me—but, if he came unprepared, the thing would get him. _No. No. No. No. No._ This couldn't be happening. What the hell was I doing? Again, I thought about Negan being right. I couldn't risk fighting these things, not to mention the crazy people and military, just to find my parents. But, that was so selfish. And, I didn't listen to Negan. I didn't check the rooms before I entered them like he always did. I was just playing Russian roulette with my life. I was beating myself up almost as hard as the monster was beating at the door.

I was getting tired but the monster wasn't. It kept waving its arms and making that raspy noise. I had been pushing back on the door with all my strength for maybe a half hour or even an hour. The time was passing and my life and all my decisions were playing out in my head. But, I had to keep the thing here. I also couldn't let Negan get ambushed. All I could do at that moment was to keep the thing's arms wedged in the door the best that I could. I prayed for daylight to come. My eyelids drooped and I thought about what a noble sacrifice it would be for me to give myself over to this thing so that Negan could live. I had justified it all and I decided I'd try one more scream. I didn't want to scream for his help. I wanted him to live. I hadn't been cautious and it was me that needed to pay the price. I gathered up all the strength I had and screamed, "NEGAN! STAY AWAY! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

And with that, I stared over at the shower. I thought about how I'd run from him when we were in the shower. Missed opportunity for hot shower sex. I thought about the first night that we just held each other—another missed opportunity. Why was I thinking about hot sex? It seemed strange that when my life was about to end, I wasn't thinking about family or friends, I was thinking about all the hot sex I'd missed with Negan. I thought about my ex for a split second and frowned. Yes, that was sad, but Negan was my psycho overprotective guardian who loved to please me and he'd picked me wildflowers, damnit. I stifled a sob. This was it. It was time. I was worthless. If I could do one good deed, I'd _really_ be his guardian angel. I'd be guarding him from death. I had to. With all his talk about fate and me being here… it had played out this way for a reason. I was to shield him from this. If I could lure the monster in here and shut the door before it killed me, then Negan would be safe. This was a good plan. This was a great plan. I'd save his life.

I said a prayer and prayed for my family and thanked God for all that he had given me in my life. I prayed for Negan and for better days ahead. I prayed that I might get into Heaven. I said "Amen."

It was time. I couldn't hold the door much longer. The arms were _still_ moving, trying to reach me, and the rasping—that noise—it just wouldn't stop. It had felt like I'd spent an eternity with this thing. Negan would wake soon and walk into a trap. I had to stop it now. I wiggled my way up the door and reached for the handle. I took a deep breath and yelled, "I'M SORRY."

"YOU SHOULD BE!" I heard him yell back.

"NOOOOOO! NEGAN! STAY THERE!" I screeched. Adrenaline spiked through my veins. I didn't know what to do. Did I hold the monster in place and keep yelling? Did I sacrifice myself so it wouldn't attack Negan? Knowledge. Knowledge is my weapon. Weapon. "NEGAN!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, "GET YOUR GUN!"

I held my breath. I counted to ten. I counted to ten, again. By the time I'd hit the number seven for a third time, I heard him scream, "GET DOWN!" I slumped down on the floor and after a split second, five shots had been fired. I saw blood and goo, but the rasping had stopped and the monster wasn't flailing its arms anymore. Negan had taken it out.


	8. RIP Jerry

As if killing a monster wasn't scary enough, walking in on me, naked and splattered with blood and monster goo must have been. Negan looked scared. Then he looked angry. I was in for it.

"That was Jerry. He was a janitor here."

"Negan. I'm sorry that—"

"Save it for now. I need to get rid of this body. Are you hurt? Did he touch you?" I shook my head. "Alright. Wash that shit off of you. I've gotta dump this body somewhere. I'll join you in the shower as soon as I'm done."

With that, he grabbed Jerry's body and drug it off, leaving a trail of blood. I thought I was going to throw up. I was right. I ran to the toilet and retched. It's not every day that you body parts all over the floor and blood spattered everywhere. And, it wasn't every day that I had blood and goo on me, too.

I took a few moments to just breathe and when I thought I could stand again, I found the cleaning products that they kept in the shower room. I put on gloves and got rags for my knees and bent over the mess, trying to wipe it up as best I could. It wasn't going to be perfect, but it would be sanitary. There wasn't too much in the shower room, but the hallway was a different story. I had to swallow back bile. Negan hadn't been too concerned with picking up every piece of Jerry's, um, brain? I tried to pick the pieces up and put them into a trash bag, but not before I retched into it. I didn't even bother trying to make it into the toilet. The lack of food and sleep mixed with the strong scent of chemicals was making me dizzy. _There is no way you are going to pass out like this_ , I kept telling myself. I scrubbed and scrubbed the door and was almost finished with the hallway floor when I heard footsteps and a very pissed-off Negan. "Fucking A!" he yelled. "You're naked, and you're fucking _cleaning_? I told you to get in the fucking shower!"

I didn't want to deal with pissed-off Negan, so I took off the gloves and threw them and the rags into the brain/ puke bag. I tied it off and put it neatly by the door. I pushed the door, walked inside and calmly headed into the shower and began the process of cleaning the blood and goo off of myself. I went stiff when I heard the lock click on the door and turned so I wouldn't have to face him when he came into the shower.

"Let me help," he said.

"I've got it. It's okay. I'm used to the blood and stuff now."

"Just let me. Let me do something for you. Please." Negan sounded weak. I turned around to look at him and his face mirrored his voice.

He looked down at me and touched my cheek. "My beautiful girl," he whispered. "I almost lost you. And _Jerry_ … How? _How_ did he get in? I've checked this place over and over. Why didn't you wake me up? I could've lost you, too!" And with that, he sat on the shower bench and put his hands on his head.

I didn't know what to do. The man I'd known these past couple days was a ghost. He was broken. I squirted some shampoo into my hand and began to massage it into his scalp. "Fuck me," he whispered. "I'm supposed to be taking care of you." He reached his arms out and pulled me to him. I was still blood-stained, but he didn't care. He just caressed my back while I washed his hair. He might have been crying. I did not know.

I tried to be as jovial as possible. "Okay, Big Boy, time to rinse!" He just shook his head and held on to me. "Negan. You have to rinse your scalp. If you want, I can go find a cup and do it for you. Give me a second."

I started to step out of his grasp so I could exit the shower and he reached for me. "No," he said. "You're not going anywhere." His voice had gone from melancholy to commanding.

"Okay. I'm here. Let's rinse. I'll help you do it or whatever you'd like."

"What I would _like_ is to know that you are protected all the time. If I have to go with you and wipe your ass from now on, I will. And you are going to learn to shoot a gun and you are going to start carrying a gun."

"No, it's okay. We got through this and I've learned."

"No, it's not okay. I should've been cleaning up the mess. I should be the one washing _your_ hair. I should be the one taking care of _you_." His soapy head was in his hands again.

"Negan. I was really stupid. I should've been more careful. I don't need you to worry about me. I'm still alive and—"

"I _know_ you were really stupid. I could've lost you. How did this happen?"

I retold him my story, including the part where I'd known I'd been irresponsible and how I'd planned to truly be his guardian angel and save him from death. His face grew angry as I told him what I'd intended. I was tired and could've started crying at any moment, but I continued to calmly tell my story. I didn't let his expression phase me.

"That's the dumbest fucking shit I've ever heard." Negan said. "Don't you try and be noble. That's not your job. I'm washing this shit off of you and then I'm taking you. I need you and I need you now."

He worked quickly, washing us both from head to toe. I tried to help, but he seemed to want to do this on his own. So, I stood, as he knelt before me, lathering and scrubbing the blood and goo off of my body. Every now and then, he would kiss the area he'd just cleaned. He was caring for me, as he felt he hadn't been able to earlier.

He finished cleaning us by washing my hair thoroughly. It felt divine. When he'd fully rinsed it, he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me toward him. His lips found mine and they were relentless, as always. There was a sense of urgency, a sense of possession I felt in the way he held me and moved his hands.

Negan sat back down on the shower bench. He pulled me over to him and held me tightly. He looked up at me and asked, "You ready?"

"I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be ready or what I'm getting ready for."

"Ready like this," he said, as he slid a finger inside me. I _was_ ready. "Okay, baby. You've earned so much more and I'm going to give you everything your heart desires, but I need this right now. So, you'll have to excuse me, but I'm going to quickly fuck you—for me—now."

Negan stood up and pulled me close to him. I could feel the heat permeating off of his body onto mine. With both hands he grabbed my hips and pushed me against the shower wall. He bent over to kiss me and while one hand grabbed at my breast, another was positioning his tip to enter me. We both gasped as he thrust his cock inside of me. He moved his hands back to my hips and then under my ass to support me. He lifted me up and started thrusting himself inside me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him as he pushed me upward over and over again. I couldn't think. I'd almost lost him. And now we were one. He had me pinned against the wall and his cock was so deep I thought I might rip in two.

He plunged into me repeatedly, taking me as his. I could only return moans. He grunted and moaned savagely as he bounced me up and down. The only time he spoke was to rasp, "fucking titties bouncing." With that, I smiled. He sure did love those. I removed one hand from his back and lifted one of my breasts up to him. He bent down towards it and whispered, "thank you," before taking my hard nipple in his mouth. He sucked relentlessly as he pounded on.

Waves of pleasure jolted through my body. He said this was for him, but I was enjoying it just as much. But, I couldn't hold out very long. My pussy lips were swollen and I was about to erupt. I tried to hold it back, knowing it would push him out of me and break the rhythm. I could feel myself tighten around his cock. I knew _he_ could feel it.

He took his mouth off of me. "You ready, baby?" he asked. "Let's do this together." No sooner had he gotten that last word out than I felt his hot liquid begin to spray up inside me, only to be pushed out by the liquid I'd released. We were a tangled mess of moans, swears, and cum. He carried me to the bench so that I could climb off of him. I started to walk away when he pulled me back into his embrace. Again, he was sitting, doing nothing but rubbing my back.

After an eternity, I broke the silence, "Do you think Jerry was here these past few days and we just couldn't find him? Why would he be coming in _here_?"

"This is where Jerry kept all his shit. I guess Jerry was going where he knew. This is where he spent a lot of time. He was a good fucker."

"That makes sense."

"I guess. Let's go back. You need sleep, as I assume you didn't get any while you were dealing with that motherfucker."

At that, I yawned. He shut off the water and then the light. We were both as naked as the day we were born, and as we walked out of the shower room, Negan scooped me up into his arms. I was asleep before we reached his office.


	9. Waking up to

I woke up on our makeshift bed of blankets and beach towels. I was on my back and I had something attached to me. I had a Negan attached to me. And he had attached himself to my nipple with his mouth. The nipple that was not attached to a mouth had a hand on it—a very possessive hand. I wondered what the hell he'd been doing while I'd been sleeping. But, it was kind of cute. He'd had a difficult day so far and if he needed to be soothed this way, it wasn't bothering me. Hell, I hadn't even felt it, I'd been so tired.

I let him hold on to me for a while before letting him know I was awake. Every now and again, he'd squeeze and rub my breast, but the sucking was a constant. He moaned in pleasure as his tongue massaged my nipple. After a moment I wondered about this man's kinks and asked out loud, "Do you have a lactation fetish?"

His lips smacked together as they pulled off of my breast. "Hmm. I've never tried it, but that would be kinky as hell. Let's fucking do it," he answered. He'd removed his hand and was climbing on top of me with a wicked look on his face.

"Negan, from what I know about that stuff, you have to be pregnant or it takes a long time—like days or months—or you need specific herbs or something to induce it. I don't know a lot about it. And I'm not pregnant, so you're out of luck today."

"Well, fuck. I guess I'll just have to suck them often and one day, maybe I'll get lucky and strike it rich with golden titty milk."

"Negan, you are so weird." I rolled my eyes. "I'd love to ask what the hell you were doing while I was asleep and if I'm going to have a giant hickey on my chest, but I think I'd just like you to lay on top of me and kiss me for a while."

"Oh, these horrible demands you make on me, woman," he mocked. He granted my demands, alternating his kisses between my lips and tracing lines down my neck and chest to back to my breasts, kissing and nibbling on my nipples.

I giggled. "You just can't get enough of them, can you?"

"These fucking tits? Never!" he replied, then stuck a nipple inside his mouth and began to suck.

All I could do was sigh and run my fingers through his hair. I didn't want to think about the night I'd had and poor Jerry. There was also the military buddy—he would be here in two days. Did that mean tomorrow night or the day after? I was about to ask when Negan's lips were on mine again and I was lost.

I intensified my kissing and he matched me as I pulled his full weight down on me. The heat of his body was pulsating onto mine, but as he began running his hands up and down my body, I got goosebumps wherever he would touch. It was a strange combination and I loved how he touched me and made my body react in such ways.

I could feel his heart beginning to race faster the more we kissed and caressed. I knew mine probably matched his. I wrapped my legs around him, as I had earlier that morning and he bit my lip in response. He had been grinding his erection into my leg and moved so that it was placed on top of my pubic mound. I met his rhythm with one of my own and we were like two teenagers, dry-humping with our hands and lips all over each other.

I grabbed both of Negan's hands and he quickly moved them beside either side of my head, so that he had me pinned down. I stopped my kisses and he looked down at me, perplexed.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"Fuck. I don't know. This? You? Why?"

"I don't know. I'm just auditory I guess. I like to hear things—like what's on your mind when you're doing things like this."

"Oh," his eyes gleamed. "You like dirty-talk?"

"No. I mean, _yes_ , but not like that. I just like to know what you're thinking. Sorry." I bit my lip and averted my eyes from his.

"It's okay," Negan said. "I get it. I love to hear the noises you make. And, I love looking at you, _especially_ those beautiful blue eyes." With that, I looked back at him. "Oh, _there_ they are! I thought I'd lost them! Thank the Lord!" He was such a charmer. He could probably charm the panties off of a nun. I had a feeling that his charisma got people to do his bidding all the time. It had worked on me. Hell, he'd had my panties permanently off for days.

"Your charm is one of your weapons, along with knowledge, isn't it?" I asked.

"Why the fuck are we talking about this now, when I have a beautiful naked woman _literally_ wrapped around me?" he countered. "And, yes, I'd like to think it is. But, with you, it's the truth. The eyes are beautiful and so are you. Now where were we?" He bent down and kissed me long and hard and I closed my eyes and pressed back against the kiss, against his body, against it all.

I felt like a slut, but I was ready for more sex. Hell, I'd come close to dying a few hours ago; but I still felt a little sinful. My hands were trapped, so I tried to move my pelvis the best that I could. I was grinding into him and moving up and down. He mirrored me and soon I felt the tip of his cock so close to my entrance. With one circular motion of my pelvis, combined with his, he was inside—not fully—but getting there. He moaned and bit my lip. We started moving and his cock went deeper and deeper inside of me.

"Fuckity fuck," was all Negan could manage. I simply opened my eyes and smiled up at him. He licked his lips and started pounding away. He was pressed on top of me, so my chest wasn't moving. I figured he'd want to see everything bounce, but he was on another planet, and he was happy, so I didn't say a word about it.

I'd felt him deep inside me and I'd thought that we'd gently made love before, but this one-ness was something new. It was intense. The shower fuck had been intense in other ways, but this was like fucking and making love combined. His gaze pierced mine and I never broke eye contact, except to blink. He continued to press my arms down, rendering me helpless, while he pressed his hot, moist body onto mine. We held hands and would squeeze them at different intervals, our fingers intertwined. His thrusts were the perfect rhythm and I tried to match his skill the best I could. My legs moved, curving around his thighs, then not even touching him, but opening as wide as I could get them. He just pumped on, pushing us deeper and deeper into each other.

Our bodies were shaking and sweating, sticking to each other. Negan moved our hands upward, pressed my wrists together above my head, and held them with one hand. He moved his hand through his dark hair and a droplet of sweat fell on my forehead. I giggled. He licked it off of my forehead and I giggled again. He then pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. He never stopped thrusting.

I could feel myself starting to build. The tension was huge and I knew I was about to orgasm. My body tightened around his and I moaned. Negan lifted his forehead from mine and looked me in the eyes. "Do it for me," he whispered. My body obeyed and I cried out. The pressure was enough to pull us apart, but with his free hand, he took his cock and slid right back inside me, where he belonged. He started up where he'd left off and I kept grinding back to meet him.

I gave him a look—a look that simply said, _I'm yours_. If he didn't know that by now, he was a fool. We stared into each other's eyes while he popped his dick in and out of me, slowing his thrusts at random intervals. He slowly caressed my face with one hand while he held me in place with the other. He could disarm me with his caresses and my body rippled with pleasure. I felt the tension build in my body again and gave him a look as to apologize. Negan shook his head at me and smiled. He was already so used to my body and how it reacted to his. He waited until I'd tensed around him and he let go, screaming my name, along with a few different curse words. My words mirrored his, as I came around his cock.

Still inside me, we laid still and quiet. He bent down and gently kissed my lips. We finished the way we'd started, kissing and caressing each other.


	10. Intel

After a while of merely laying still and quiet, Negan gently slid out of me and grabbed a towel. He wiped our sweat off of my body. He came back to my chest and smacked one of my boobs. "Damn. No titty bouncing during any of that. I'm just gonna have to give them some extra attention."

"Oh… I think they got plenty of attention earlier," I said.

" _No they didn't._ ," Negan replied in a voice as if he were talking to a baby. He was speaking directly to my boobs and squeezed them. " _Look at my perfect titties. They want me to hold them and kiss them and—what's that? They want me to titty-fuck them! I can't wait! No I can't!"_

"Oh my God. Negan, I've already thrown up twice today, I don't need a third time." I laughed.

Suddenly he was serious. "You didn't tell me that. Are you alright?"

"Earlier, I'd seen too much blood and brains, so I threw up," I shrugged.

"You shouldn't have been in the fucking position to see that nor been cleaning up my fucking mess," Negan said flatly. I didn't want to argue. It wasn't his mess—it was mine, but he was back in protector mode, so I just nodded.

"You need to eat" he went on. "We need to get some real fucking food around here. But, right now, you're going to have a ginger ale."

"A ginger ale?" I questioned.

"Yeah. It'll help soothe your stomach. Since my cock has already soothed the rest of your body." Negan smirked.

I laughed at him, but I'd wanted to cry. I'd only questioned him because that's what my parents' solution to stomach aches had always been—fucking ginger ale. Negan dug through the cooler and found the carbonated solution. "Here you go, baby," he said as he handed it to me. "This should make your tummy feel a little better. If I'd known you weren't feeling well, we wouldn't have done that."

"I initiated it, Negan. It's fine. You're fine. We're all fine." He gave me a funny look then went back to rummaging through the cooler.

I opened the ginger ale and took a sip. I closed my eyes and remembered my parents. I thought of the times when I'd been sick as a little girl and they'd given me ginger ale and crackers. I wanted my mom. Wasn't that the reaction everyone seemed to have— _I want my Mommy_ —when they were scared or in pain? I was scared but part of the fear was that I might not see my mom or dad again. Tears were going to start. I had to rein this in. He did not need to see me crying every two seconds.

"Are you still feeling sick?" Negan asked as he sat down right beside me.

"No. You're right, though. I need to eat."

"Well, I don't want you to eat junk if your stomach's fucked up. I've got crackers." It took everything I had to hold the tears back. What was this? Negan, the parent. Negan, the caregiver. I wanted my Mommy and Daddy.

"Okay," I said quickly, eyes still closed. I put the can of ginger ale up to my forehead to cool myself off. I was still a little warm from all the sex and I'm sure my face looked horrible and flushed. He probably thought I _was_ sick. I ate the crackers and drank my ginger ale. We grazed on snack cakes and other foods from the vending machines in silence.

After a bit, Negan laid down with his hands behind his head. "Are you feeling better?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for saving me from Jerry and keeping me safe and… just everything you've done. I can't begin to tell you how much it's meant to me."

"Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?"

"Well, I'm not sure what's going to happen in less than two days. I don't know who is coming and what's going to happen."

"Like I said, it's _classified_ , love. You don't need to worry your pretty little head about anything. Negan's got you."

" _Love_? You use the term like you mean it. If you love someone—or care for them, anyway—you'd tell them all about this military friend and what's going on—you'd share everything with them. You know, all of your _intel_."

"Fine," Negan said. "Get your ass over here and lay on my chest. If I'm talking, I'm at least going to have a titty to squeeze while doing so." I rolled my eyes but was secretly pleased that he was talking.

It turned out that his imaginary military friend was real. His name was Kevin and he was a Master sergeant in charge of a squad in the U.S. Marine Corps, currently stationed in D.C. MSgt Kevin had told Negan that neighborhoods were being evaluated and either evacuated or being held prisoners in their own homes. The virus had spread and the government didn't have any answers. The only thing they had figured out is that the creatures could be stopped if they were taken out in the head—it didn't matter how, just where. At this point, the government was just trying to contain the living. He said that Kevin had told him that he'd seen some serious shit go down—shit he was not comfortable with participating in anymore. Kevin had told Negan that there was a list of 20 major U.S. cities that were to be bombed by the government first. After the "Terrible 20," came the lesser bombings around the country.

Like Kevin, members of his squad had been disgusted with how they'd seen human life treated and how the military was handling things. They had all decided to leave the shitshow and get back to their families. Apparently, Negan told Kevin he could strike out with him, as Kevin's family was in Florida. His wife had perished, along with one of his daughters. Kevin had no idea where his remaining two daughters were. Kevin had asked Negan if he could bring a few guys from his unit with him, as these men were all too far away to get back to their homes and families. They were pragmatic and realized that traveling to their respective homes alone was a suicide mission. They wanted to stay with their squad and their commander. Negan had considered the possibilities and negotiated with Kevin. They had decided that the best option was to fortify the car dealership and use the military presence as a ruse, so that no one would bother them— _us_. It was quite smart, actually.

Negan said that Kevin had an idea of when the "Terrible 20" was going to take place, but wasn't sure, and since he was in D.C. (and D.C. being one of the twenty), they were getting the hell out of there before the bombing started. It was a Thursday. They would be here by Saturday, at the latest. Negan told me about all the plans he had outlined with Kevin and talked about the supplies they'd get and how they'd planned to go about it. I listened intently, as Negan was in his zone—he was a commanding presence while he spoke and he had so much information that the public didn't—and that was his weapon. He could ride this out because he had the knowledge of what so many others would never see coming. I began to feel sorry for those in the cities and thought about various friends who lived in some of the "Terrible 20" cities.

Aside from the bombings, this was all news to me. But it now made sense that Negan had shot the monsters through the heads and they'd immediately been stopped. I remembered Negan's entrance into my life, when he was just that loud salesman talking about bombings, but he'd been telling the truth. It was difficult to take in, but it was nice to know that we wouldn't be totally alone. On the other hand, I wondered if these Marines included any women. I asked him.

"Why? Is baby jealous? It looks kinda hot on you," he smiled his wicked smile.

"No, I just didn't know if they would all be men and if I'd have to watch my back—I know I'll have to get more clothes, unless you're planning on developing a nudist colony here."

"Oh, no. Those titties are for my eyes—and hands—and mouth—only," he shook his head and squeezed one possessively. "As far as I'm aware there aren't any Marine chicks coming, but these guys will know from the start not to fuck with me or my property."

"I'm your _property_?" My voice was shrill as I looked up at him.

"Do you want to be?" He licked his lips.

"I'm not really a feminist, but I think that being your _property_ is just a little degrading, Negan."

"Well, you fucking know what I mean. If any of them fuck with you in any way, or one even looks at you the wrong way, I'll cut off his dick. You will have no worries. There are going to be fucking rules. I've already told Kevin this. We're not just going to be huddled together and scared, waiting for the government to take their dicks out of our asses. We're going to fucking build something."

I continued to listen to his ideas about civilization and crime and punishment; how he thought everyone deserved a second chance unless the crime was too serious. He told me his convictions, how he detested rape and never wanted to have children see the violence that they were so often exposed to. Negan definitely had his own code and the two of us and the Marines were all going to be living by it. As he spoke of philosophy and psychology, I wondered if I could keep to the code. What if I messed up in his eyes? I became tense and he felt it.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You don't agree with what I think?"

"Well, maybe not every little thing. I'm just afraid that I'll mess up or get in trouble."

"Only if you cheat on me," he winked. But, then again, we aren't _married_ , so I guess that's not really punishable. And, I swore to protect you, and I will always hear you out, so you should be fine. Why the fuck are you suddenly scared of me, like I'm your king or some shit?"

"Well, all of this talk makes it sound like you will be king. I think what you want to accomplish is awesome, but it's also scary to me."

"Why? You'll just be my fucking queen, then. There are rules and consequences set up in every civilized society. I was just trying to explain my point of view to you so you'd know more about me—about what's inside this fucking hot body and gorgeous face. But, if you're sick of talking of listening or whatever, we can do something _else_." He smiled his wicked Cheshire cat grin and started pinching one of my nipples between his fingers.

Silence. I didn't know what to say. He went on, "Enough of the intel. You've been briefed. Listen. I've felt almost every part of you. I've seen you at your most venerable—and I've seen how brave you are. And I know you're strong. You've given me pleasure by letting me give _you_ pleasure. But, I want to give you more. I want you here with us. We will make all of this fucking happen."

"More?" I wasn't following. Was he asking me to marry him? I was very confused.

"Usually, I just take what I fucking want—and you might see that soon. But, I want _you_ to have it all and _I_ want to be the one to give it to you. We'll talk about all this shit later."

"Will there be a later, Negan? What if they arrive and you're so busy that you don't have a chance to talk or you forget about what you've said to me these last couple of days because there are others around and I'm not the only human to interact with anymore?"

He sighed. "Is it too early to tell you 'I love you'?" he asked.

"Oh my God, Negan." I sighed. "There are different types of love. I'm sure you feel something, but it's probably the newly passionate type of love that eventually fizzles."

"Fuck no. It's the 'I'm in love with you and would marry you now if you said yes' type."

My heart skipped a beat. "You're nuts."

"I told you, the Joker and Harley Quinn," he replied.

"You realize he repeatedly beats her and leaves her many times —not to mention that he tries to kill her multiple times. They have a very fucked-up relationship."

He frowned at that. "Well, I'm just saying that we're both fucking nuts. I guess I'm not the Joker—that's out of the fucking question. I'll never lay a fucking hand on you or make you do anything you don't want. I'll figure out another analogy. But, until then, I love you.

"Don't. Please."

"Why not? You said that it's happened to you. Well, it happened to me to, baby."

"You're in Eros, you need to get to Agape. Then we'll talk," I laughed.

"Huh?" Negan was confused.

I tried to explain, "I learned about this in one of my Masters courses. The Ancient Greeks devised labels for four types of love. Agape and eros are two of the four. Basically, you're at the passionate stuff… hit me up when you reach unconditional and then we'll be good," I laughed.

"I still love you," he pouted.

I reached up and gently pinched his lips shut. I knew he did, but so much, so soon? I just wanted to get through an afternoon without so much intensity—but I had a feeling Negan's new world was going to be just that—intense.


	11. Dating

I had loved listening to Negan tell me all of his plans, his philosophies, and his hopes. To hear him talk, even though fiercely intimidating at times, was like hearing a breath of fresh air, complete with hopes and dreams and a real future in these times of uncertainty. But, I didn't know about his past… I wanted to know as much as I could about him, but I didn't want to pry. I'd pulled the "you don't really care about me" card to get him to open up about what his future plans were. I couldn't use that again. I thought I could use a different tactic—one that would unravel him and definitely make him willing to talk.

My hand had been caressing his chest the entire time we'd been talking (or I'd been listening, rather). I decided to get information, I'd have to give him something. I thought about that and giggled.

"What are you up to, little angel," Negan asked.

"Nothing. I'm just planning out my evening. I think we should get a shower and then have some delicious dinner. And, I feel like brushing my teeth."

" _Oh my_ ," he said. "Is this a _date_?"

I laughed. "Call it what you want. I just want to spend time with you."

"And I want to spend time with you and _in_ you and _on_ you and—"

"Yes, Negan, I know. Let's go shower."

He was already in the shower with the water running when I spat the last of my toothpaste into the sink. I looked at myself in the mirror and frowned. I didn't use lots of makeup—but I did love my eyeliner. I would've been happy with some of that. Wow. Negan had been staring at a hot mess—well, really just a mess—for the last couple of days. He didn't seem to mind, so I got into the shower and mustered up all the courage I had in me.

Negan was a work of art. The water cascaded over his body and made every inch of him gleam in the light. He felt me approach and pulled me toward him and into his arms. I looked up at him, trying to blink out the water and he kissed me swiftly. "If these are your ideas of dates, then I want to go out with you every night, baby," he laughed.

I joined in his laughter. He had been scrubbing himself down and began to lather me up. We'd just done this not too long ago—but I'd learned so much since that last session. When he was done, he started to turn off the water and I put a finger up to him and said, "Hold on a second." He gave me a puzzled look as I stepped outside and grabbed one of the smaller towels that was kept in the shower room and brought it back into the shower with me. "Sorry," I said. "I just don't want to get sore." He looked at me like I had two heads until I threw the towel on the shower floor.

"You want to fuck on the shower floor?" he asked.

"Um, not quite," I replied. "Why don't you just keep enjoying that hot water? Just close your eyes and let me touch you."

Negan complied. I reached up and kissed his lips and then began to move my mouth down his neck to his chest. My hands caressed his long arms as I moved down slowly. He sighed. I kept going down, kissing all around his stomach and moving my arms around his back. I found the towel and kneeled in front of him. I heard him whisper, "OhmyGod."

"You don't have to do this," he said.

"I know. But I want to."

His hands started to caress my head. He was hard as a rock and I'll admit I was a bit intimidated. I closed my eyes and I could feel him there, right in front of me and I brushed my lips against his cock. He moaned in anticipation. Without thinking, I stuck out my tongue and began to lick up and down the shaft. I put my left hand on the bottom of his cock and shakily started to stroke him with my right. His moan deepened. After licking and stroking for a few more moments, I slowly parted my lips and slid his cock inside my mouth.

I opened my lips wider as he filled my mouth, slowly caressing him with my tongue. With my free right hand, I grabbed around to his ass and grabbed it. "Mmmmm," was all that he could manage. Negan began to slowly and methodically pump in and out of my mouth. His hard cock was huge and muffled the sounds of my own moans. He kept his hands softly on my head and began to caress my hair. I began to suck harder and faster on him. His gentle caress suddenly became a firm grip on the back of my head. His other hand encircled my throat from the left, with his thumb under my chin. I moaned as he took control of me. I began to suck furiously on him and also used my hands to replicate what my mouth was doing.

He kept moving his pelvis as I continued to suck and stroke him. I took his cock out of my mouth to stroke it and looked at him in the eyes. They were pleading and I smiled at him and slowly licked my lips. I then licked the entire length of the shaft to the balls. He whispered, "Fuuuuuuck." We continued the rhythm of sucking, stroking, and thrusting. I could feel him beginning to tense around my mouth and he screamed, "I'm going to! You don't have to! Oh my God, baby!" My mouth and hand stayed latched on to his giant cock as he screamed "Fuckity fuck! Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!" He exploded in my mouth and after a split second of debating, I swallowed it all. He apparently noticed, as he exclaimed, "Oh my God. You."

I just looked up at him and smiled. I quickly licked his sensitive cock clean and he shivered. He moved over to sit on the shower bench and grabbed me up under my arms as he went.

He sat down on the bench and put me on his lap. He was still breathing heavily as he looked at me in the eyes. "I need to ask you something," Negan said very seriously. I nodded.

"Where the fuck did you find the weed and why didn't you share?" he laughed.

All I could do was smile sheepishly and bury my head into the nape of his neck.


	12. Hi, I'm Negan

Negan was assessing the situation happily on the shower bench. "Okay, so you've brushed your teeth and showered," he stated, as he pulled my face to look at his. "What was next on our _date_? Dinner? And, you had your dessert early, you naughty girl. But don't think I'm skipping mine." His eyes were wicked as he licked his lips and put a hand in between my legs. If I could get in his good graces with merely a blow job, I'd survive.

"Who said that was dessert?" I asked. "I was merely trying to give you a gift."

"Ohhhh baby, I do _love_ your fucking gifts. And you sure you weren't high?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Well," he went on, "I sure hope that you weren't merely _in the mood_."

"Why not?" I asked.

"I want it to be the third option."

He wanted me to love him. God, he was charming. I just squeezed him.

"Alright, wench," Negan said as he stood up, making me stand with him. "Back we go for a night of dinner and dancing." He grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder, smacking my ass periodically the entire way back to his office.

Once inside, he put me down, shut the door and locked it. He went over to his desk and took a seat. He leaned back and propped his feet on the end of the desk. He put one of his elbows on the chair's armrest, and propped his chin up with his hand. He was a sight to behold, but he was looking me up and down. He had left me naked and wet standing in the middle of his office. The mood seemed to have shifted from pleasant to something else… I crossed my arms and frowned.

"Tsk tsk!" he chastised. "Your arms are crossed. I can't see my titties."

I rolled my eyes and put my hands on my hips. I wasn't sure what this game was. I'd thought I'd earned a reward, but now felt like I was the one that was about to be eaten up for dinner. I'd started to shiver.

"Grab a towel and then _tell me what it is that you fucking want_ ," Negan commanded.

I tried to look confused as I bent over right in front of him, with my ass sticking up, so he could enjoy the view. I was going to try my best to learn his secrets and his past, even if I had to fuck it out of him.

"Ohh. That's a nice fucking view and I am _so_ inclined to come over there and examine it a bit more closely, but I'd like some information first."

"What do you mean, _what I want from you_? Like sex?" I asked as sweetly as I possibly could as I wrapped a towel around myself.

"You wanna play dirty?" Negan asked icily. "I can play dirty, too. In fact, I'll bet I play much fucking dirtier than you do. I'll have to admit, I loved your tactic, but you have no fucking clue who you're dealing with, baby. I can test your will and the stronger you try to resist mine, the more I'll get off on it."

Whoa. _This_ is who I'd be dealing with if I were to stay here. And _he_ was more than intimidating. "So you think I want something from you?"

"Well, ya don't suck cock, baby. And unless Cupid's arrow pierced that fine ass of yours, I'm thinking that I didn't just cum for nothing." He was still leaning back in his chair, dressed only in his smug grin.

I looked him in the eyes. I was getting angry and you could hear it in the edge of my voice. "Okay. Honestly? I wanted to learn about you. But, as secretive as you were with the Kevin shit, I didn't think I could ask you to tell me your life story—I thought I might need to _persuade_ you a bit." I looked down at my feet. I realized at that moment that I'd been a fool. If everything he'd said to me was true, I could've asked. I was playing games and I knew I'd lost this one. "Besides, I don't like you like this. It's intimidating and it makes me not want to stay around here if this is who you really are."

I could hear Negan quickly move out of his chair. I could feel him in front of me but I was still stubbornly staring at my feet.

He tilted my chin up to look at him. " _Why_ didn't you just ask?" he questioned me, aggravated. "I'm an open book as far as _you_ are concerned and I want you to be the same with me. And, as much as I fucking loved your bribery technique, it wasn't necessary. Don't fucking play games with me because I will _always_ fucking win. I _promise_ you that. But, I've also made so many other promises to you in the past few days. I will _never_ hurt you and if I do, I will never have meant to. I want to share everything with you and have told you this time and again. I told you not even two fucking hours ago how I wanted you to be with me when I built this new world. I know I can be a lot to handle, but I want you to stay here. Don't doubt me or my feelings and _please_ don't fucking test me. Like I said, I'll always win. I'm fucking good at it. And, that's how we're going to fucking survive. Do you understand me?" I nodded. "Good," he said. "Let's dance."

I thought I'd been mindfucked as he pulled off my towel, pulled me into his embrace, and held out his left hand for me to take. There was no music, but Negan turned me around the office as he sang. I had no idea what he was singing—some 80s hair band song that I didn't recognize. I just shook my head. He spun me and asked, "What? You think you can do better?" I didn't want to tell him that, yes, in fact I could. I'd sung at multiple weddings, done musical theater, and been in multiple choirs. Then it hit me. Here I was, expecting him to tell me his life story yet I wouldn't do the same. I was being so hypocritical. We'd been swaying for a while when I finally began to sing softly, "Who knows how long I've loved you? You know I love you still. Will I wait a lonely lifetime? If you want me to, I will…" Negan stopped dancing as I continued singing the Beatles song. I'd been singing into his chest, but by the last verse, he'd tilted my head up so I was looking at him. When I'd finished, he smiled a very sweet smile and said, "I haven't listened to 'The White Album' in years. And that was beautiful."

After that, the dancing was done so we had our usual dinner of Coke and snack foods. I was quiet as I ate, trying to figure out 'Scary Negan,' (as I'd dubbed him in my brain). I had no doubt that he would put the smack down on anyone who opposed him. I just didn't want to be on the other end of that again and I didn't think I wanted to see what happened to anyone who _really_ crossed him. This world was falling apart and our emotions had been so heightened. He'd seen all sides of me and, after tonight, I'd seen part of him that I wanted to forget—was it his _true_ nature? He assured me that I was safe, but people change their minds, and if his "love"—as he claimed he had for me—fizzled, would I be left to face _that_ man, bending my will to his? I put it out of my thoughts. I knew that I was overreacting. Deep down, I knew how he felt. _I_ felt how he felt. Negan wouldn't hurt me… I was his guardian angel, after all.


	13. The Past

A/N Sorry the build-up is slow- yes, there will be other wives. This is just turning out to be a lot of smut and can you blame me? :) It's really turning into a backstory. Kirkman? Hello? Your female readers might want some of this? lol Thank you for all the praise and waiting patiently for me to type and excusing the typos.

"You know, people are supposed to make polite conversation during dinner when they're on _dates_ ," Negan said. "You were awfully quiet during our dinner. What were you thinking about? How big of a dick I might be? You planning on leaving me now?"

This was it. "Okay," I said. "I'll just put it all out there. What do I have to lose? If you get pissed, you could hurt me or kill me… but, hey! If I leave, I'll probably get attacked by a monster and die anyway. Yes. I saw a side of you that scared the hell out of me. I don't want to face him again. But, I can see how being like _that_ could be beneficial to all that you want."

"Being like what?"

"Scary Negan." I'd said it out loud.

He began to laugh hysterically. Yep, he was a psychopath… and I was in love with him. Maybe the Joker and Harley Quinn _did_ fit us… I decided to guard myself from the laughing beast and covered up in a blanket.

"Oh no you don't," Negan said as he crawled over to where I was. He was still laughing a little as he got under the blanket with me.

"For someone who seems so damn smart, you sure are fucking stubborn. What do I have to do to fucking prove myself? Pick more wildflowers? I shouldn't have shown _Scary Negan_ to you. I know that you are fucking fragile right now. Hell, you haven't been home for fucking days. I know this is not how you saw your life playing out. I fucking never thought that Kevin would be coming here. I thought I'd be in a different fucking state by now. Tell me what you want to know, and I'll answer whatever. Just tell me that you weren't fucking planning on leaving. I'm crazy enough to probably fucking follow you."

"You would not. This setup is going to work out too well for you. What's love to a king, anyway? Your subjects don't have to like you," I smiled. He rolled his eyes and held me close. I told him about the ginger ale and that I'd been thinking about my parents and I was scared for them and that I really missed them. "I guess I just want my Mommy and Daddy."

Negan held me close. "It's a good thing I don't have to worry about my parents. Worrying about you is proving to be challenging enough." I looked up at him, startled. He smiled weakly. Negan then told me about how his parents had died when he was seven, along with his five-year-old brother. They'd been hit in an early morning car crash. His family had been on their way to watch Negan play baseball. He said that he had always felt partly to blame, since it was his game they were coming to watch. He felt guilty that he wasn't in the car with them. He also talked about how he had worked through a lot of those issues and realized that he hadn't had any control in that matter, as he was only seven. He said he'd also come to realize that he desired control in almost all situations because that one incident in which he had no control had taken so much from him. He said that he'd rebuilt himself at a young age. He told me that he kept playing baseball although, because it had been the reason that he'd lost his family, he had wanted to quit several times throughout his adolescence. He, instead, began to channel his feelings into baseball—into the way he coped with things—because of the major loss he'd suffered so early in his life. He told me that he'd actually been pretty good at the sport. He'd even received multiple baseball scholarship offers from different colleges. He said that he felt like he was giving his lost family a tribute every time he picked up a bat.

I had tears in my eyes. I wrapped my arms around Negan and apologized for being so insensitive when he didn't have his parents and I kept whining about mine.

He told me that it was okay—that it had happened decades ago and that I shouldn't feel bad for trying to find my parents. Negan pulled me to his chest and said when Kevin and his men arrived, we'd be like a family. He also said that finding my parents wasn't out of the question. Scary Negan was gone. I laid on his chest as he asked about the rest of my family. I told him that my parents were from the same small town and my entire family basically still lived there. I had a younger brother but my parents hadn't heard anything from him or his wife for weeks. He was less than an hour away from my parents and he would've gone to them as soon as this craziness had all started, but he was Athletic Director for a large university. We weren't sure if the college had wanted him to stay and help out with the chaos that was probably erupting or if something else had happened. Since we hadn't heard from his wife, either, we assumed the latter. This was still the case as of three days ago, when I'd last spoken to my mom and dad. The last conversation I'd had with my dad was about my car's maintenance and he'd lectured me about dealerships overcharging people verses other places. _That was the last conversation I'd had with my father_. It had ended with an irritated me saying in a _very_ irritated voice, "Whatever." I would never live with myself if I that was the last thing I'd said to him. I began to sob. Negan pulled me closer and held me while the regret coursed through my body. He let me grieve for my potential losses. Perhaps he was thinking about his own family. We were silent except for my sobs for a long time.

Negan was patient with me. I'd definitely give him that. Perhaps he was making up for the face he'd shown me earlier. At that moment, being in his arms felt so natural—like I was where I was supposed to be. I looked up at him. I knew that I looked horrible, with fluid all over my face. "I snotted all over your chest," I said. We both just laughed and he grabbed my nose to wipe it with his hand. It was so gross, but so loving at the same time. I became so acutely aware of his beauty—both inside, and definitely out. He had pulled me into himself in ways that were beyond physical. This place had become my sanctuary in the short time I'd been there. I wiggled out of his grasp and grabbed the tissues. I wiped his hand and my face. "Thank you," I said.

"For being your human Kleenex?" Negan asked.

"For everything. For dealing with me crying all the time. For giving me this sanctuary these past few days. And, yeah, that, too."

"Don't worry about it, love," he said. "I fucking hate to see you in pain. And wherever I am will be your sanctuary." He kissed me on the forehead.

Negan pulled me over beside him and laid me down, face up while he propped himself up on one side with his elbow. And while he looked upon me I knew that "love at first sight" had struck twice. Lying next to him was like being aroused to no end. I had a burning need to have his flesh on mine and I would let him use me for every pleasurable purpose he could conceive. I looked up at Negan and took my right hand and glided my fingers down his neck, passing faintly, gently going over his chest, down his stomach and trailing my fingers along his waist. I took my time, enjoying touching him and feeling him enjoy my touch. Meanwhile, his free hand caressed my cheek and neck. He closed his eyes and made appreciative noises.

Negan slowly opened his eyes and mine caught his. His was an expression of a predator. My eyes widened. "What's that face for?" he laughed.

"You just kind of look like a tiger or something ready to pounce."

"Oh you fucking mind reader!" And just like that he was straddling me, pinning me down. He began kissing me and fisting one hand in my hair while the other frantically explored my body. I lifted his lips from mine and gazed into his eyes and said, "I have one question. After I was attacked or held hostage or whatever by Jerry, later in the shower, you said you 'could've lost me, _too_.' What did you mean?"

Negan spoke, "After all I've just told you, I think you know what I meant. I didn't want to lose anyone else I loved." He sighed. "While we're having fucking confession time, let me tell _you_ something. I want to make you feel like you're alive, not only in your body but in your soul. I want to show you what you've shown me. You've made me feel alive these past few days. And I won't fucking give it up—I told you I always fucking win. But, I can't give you up. I love you. You've brought me to the brink and kept me from falling. Be there for me when I need to be lifted from the depth of feeling nothing and I promise that I will be your family. I know that I might not come close to your parents or brother, but I fucking need you. You make me feel like I could fucking rule the world." After his speech, I had no time to respond, as he crushed his lips into mine. I supposed it was because he didn't want to hear anything but agreement from me. I don't know that charming was even the appropriate word to describe Negan. He was intoxicating.

And intoxicated I was. How could one not be after such a profession of love—a profession of need? They didn't make them like Negan anymore. What a complex character he was. I took my hands and pressed them to his face as I said, "I will try. And I know it's terribly soon, but I love you, too."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. All he could say was, "Fuck." He went back to kissing me as if his life depended on it. He was still straddling me, but swiftly moved down my stomach to my legs. I could feel his lips just above my knee. Negan's lips were warm and wet as he kissed my thigh. He went higher, kissing every inch. He ran his hands up and down my thighs and gently opened my legs. I wanted more—I knew what this man was capable of. He kissed higher, pouring little kisses on each thigh. He whispered, "I want to taste you." I couldn't reply. I could only put my hand on his head, urging him on. I felt his warm breath just over my clit. I began to tingle all over. He blew on my clit and I shuddered. I'm not sure if I said "please" in my head or out loud. His lips were so close. He inhaled and growled in approval. His tongue touched the tip of my clit and my back arched. He started with a long, slow lick and then started sucking my clit faster. His mouth was all over my pussy—licking, tasting, and rubbing. He knew the recipe to undo me—he inserted two fingers and sucked and played with my clit with his tongue. "Fuck. Oh my God. Negan!" I moaned as I came apart.

Negan lapped up my juices and began kissing my thighs again. His lips moved up to my stomach, kissing tenderly, then up to my breasts. "Ahh, my fucking titties," he smiled. He sucked and tasted them. His big body was now looming over me. He spread my legs wider with his legs. I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh. He looked down at me and I didn't have to say a word. He knew it was a "yes." It was a "please." I needed his love. He moved the tip of his cock to my entrance. It was so wet that he easily slipped in. I gasped, as his size was still _very_ above average and he was hard as a rock. He started to move in a little deeper and began to pump. My lips were on his lips, his heavy body was pressed against mine, my legs were open, being filled and fucked by his huge cock. He pushed deep into me. It was pain. It was pleasure. It was him. I flowed with wetness, as I orgasmed again, pushing him out. He slipped back in deep and held my legs high in the air.

"Fuck me," was all I could say to him, over and over. He did as I commanded. He fucked me, with my feet on either side of his head, legs high in the air. We were one, sweating, cursing, and fucking. He grabbed my hips and pounded me harder. I came again. I was thrashing. He was undoing me. I could only gape up at him. He inserted himself again and kept fucking, pounding me hard; it was rough, yet beautiful. My body was getting so used to his huge member. I squeezed my body around his and felt him tense. He was ready to burst. He filled me with a wet gush. I could only see stars and hear Negan curse. He kept pumping and began to slow as I soaked his cock with my own fluids. He fell on me and his body relaxed. It was bliss feeling—his warmth pressed up against me.

Negan rolled off of me and wiped the sweat off of his face. "You're fucking incredible," he said. "In every fucking way." He pulled me to him and looked me square in the face. "You _love_ me," he teased in a sing-song voice. I just rolled my eyes and replied, "Yes. Yes I do."

He held me tightly as we fought our exhaustion. I felt warm, secure, wanted, and definitely loved. It was so peaceful in his arms and my concerns washed away. We were melted together and the world began to fade into nothing as I faded into a deep sleep.


	14. The Terrible Twenty

I woke from slumber in the middle of the night. I heard Negan breathing and could feel his heat next to me. I looked over his beautiful sleeping form, as a bright light crept through the window. It illuminated him oddly, and made him look almost like an angel. I pondered what he might be dreaming about, as I listened to his breath change. I couldn't help myself. I slowly began to run my hands over his body. He stirred slightly under my touch but not enough to wake him. I began to trace my fingers down his spine, slowly pushing the blanket away to reveal more of his flesh. I slowed down when he stirred and just let the warmth flow from my hands to his body. Negan's eyes fluttered open.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I really have to potty and I'll take a gun and you can go back to sleep."

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "Nope. Sorry. I told you if I had to fucking wipe your ass, that's what would happen. Besides—yawn—you don't know how to shoot a gun yet." He kissed me. "But, I do like the way you woke me up. We'll come back to that after potty time."

So, I waited for Negan to adjust to being awake. After a few minutes, he got up, grabbed his gun and we started down the hallway. On the way back, I began to look at the light that had filtered through the window. In the main windows of the dealership, I noticed that it was an eerie color. I was drawn toward it. Negan was telling me to back away from the window when we heard a blast. We both crouched to the floor, but nothing had hit us. We were safe. However, terror was etched across my face, and Negan grabbed me tight as we continued to look out the windows into the distance. It was D.C. and even as far away as we were, we could see the smoke-filled air. They had started bombing the "Terrible 20."

So much for sleeping. In the distance, the only thing we heard was one of the "Terrible 20" being bombed. Innocent lives were being lost and he held me in his embrace as fireworks lit up the night sky. I asked about Kevin—would he have left in time? All these plans—they had been for nothing if Kevin wasn't there to help carry them out. We needed to get out—but not yet—not while people would be pouring out of the cities—we needed to fortify this place before people flocked here. I panicked. I couldn't deal with the potential danger. I babbled all of this to Negan. I'm not sure if he was politely listening to the ramblings of a scared woman to calm her down or if he was letting me advise him. Either way, he listened and nodded.

After a while, I had to look away. I turned my head into his chest. He'd felt my tension and ushered me back into our little room. We could still hear loud noises in the distance, but Negan tried to distract me with stories about his grandmother, who'd raised him. Negan was definitely a talker. After hours, I finally began to yawn and found myself falling asleep, despite the horror and sadness that filled my heart.

When I awoke the next morning, Negan wasn't there. However, I could hear his booming voice outside of the office—and there were other voices. I began to panic. Who was here? Was he negotiating for his life? Did he have his gun? I curled up in the blanket and didn't want to think about what was going on. Then I heard him laugh. It was a natural laugh, so this had to be good. I looked around for my clothes. I hadn't worn them for days. I found my jeans, shirt, and bra and put them on. My panties weren't a necessity at the moment. I dug in my bag and was delighted to find makeup. I put eyeliner and powder on and was ready to meet the world. I put my hand on the doorknob, and then pulled it back quickly. What if Negan didn't want me to come out? What if he was in some sort of trouble—and I'd be walking right into it? So, I sat in his office chair and played the waiting game while eating my usual breakfast of snack food.

Right as I'd stuffed a cookie into my mouth, the door opened and Negan came in, grinning. "Hey, baby. How long have you been awake?" he asked.

"Muh muth us fool," was all I could reply.

He tilted his head back and roared in laughter. Meanwhile I swallowed and blinked at him, ready to hear our fate.

"So?" I asked.

He grinned. " _So_ , those motherfuckers made it out! It was apparently fucking Armageddon and people were going crazy, but they got out. They're here and I want you to meet them, of course. Most of the guys passed out because they haven't slept in so long and they had to fight off hoards last night—both diseased fuckers and the living. But, they've got some real fucking food with them, so stop eating those damn cookies. We'll let them fucking rest and then I'll have you meet all of them. Kevin's still awake if you'd like to meet him now." I nodded.

So, this was it. I was about to meet the newest member of my new family. I was nervous, but I knew Negan trusted him, so I would, too. I got up and tried to straighten my hair the best I could. I walked out to the sales floor where I saw a couple guys asleep in sleeping bags and one asleep in a chair. A man with light brown hair was chugging a bottle of water. He was only a little taller than I was, but looked like he could bench-press me—and Negan. He was finishing his water when Negan went over to him, holding my hand and introduced me.

Negan began to introduce Kevin, "This is Master Sergeant Kevin Diamond of the—"

"Shit, Negan. I'm done with titles. It's just _Kevin_ now. No more country to serve. No more of any of that bullshit." Kevin wiped his forehead with his forearm.

I piped up, "Kevin, I'm so happy to meet you. Thank you for serving our country and protecting us and I'm glad that you got out. We were worried."

" _Fuck_ this country," Kevin replied. When he saw that I was taken aback, he said, "Excuse my language, ma'am. I didn't mean to offend you, but if you've seen the way this country has treated the living it swore to protect, you'd be mighty offended yourself. I signed up for this job and vowed to protect this land, but how can you protect the land from those who want to destroy their own people? Besides, I'm sure dropping the f-bomb is nothing new to you, if you've been with Negan all this time." He smiled and laughed.

Negan and I joined in his laughter. "This is true," I said. "I find myself swearing more than ever lately. And I'm sorry to hear about your family. I hope that your girls are okay."

"Not likely. Two of my babies could be wandering around Panama City or worse. I sure hope that they're safe, but with their momma gone, I doubt it."

"I'm so sorry. Can I get you anything besides the water? We have lots of snacks and Coke products," I smiled weakly. I didn't know what to do, except be a hostess.

"Thanks but nah. I've got some fresh food for y'all if you want it. As for me, I'm gonna get some rest if you don't mind. I've gone 36 hours with no shuteye. So, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go catch up on some. Looks like Negan here's found a good one. Easy on the eyes and quite the lady. Good job, man." Kevin smiled.

"Yeah, remember what I told you. Watch those fucking eyes," Negan lightly punched Kevin in the arm. He then led Kevin (and me) to one of the other offices that the now-ex-Marines would soon be inhabiting.

As we walked back to our office, Negan told me that they were going to be going on a run as soon as they'd figured out what we needed, with priorities given to certain items, and where the safest places to get supplies would be. The outside of the dealership would become a fortress, while the inside would become livable. So, most of the offices would be turned into bedrooms. He told me that this meant we were moving to the biggest office. At that, I frowned.

"What's fucking wrong with a bigger space?" he asked. "There will be two of us in the room, instead of just one guy who is used to sleeping in a fucking sleeping bag."

I looked at him at batted my eyelashes. "I don't know. _Memories_ , I guess."

"Woman. If you want to keep that room, it's yours. Or, I'll keep it. We'll just fucking say that we have separate quarters so that I can send you away when you get PMS," he grinned.

I playfully slapped his arm. "Shut up, you know you'll be sneaking into wherever I'm sleeping, trying to get a piece of this."

"Alas, you are fucking right. And, speaking of that, everyone's asleep, so what do you say about letting me have a piece of that right now?" he grinned.

I shook my head and tried not to laugh. But, grabbed his hand and quickly led us to our "old" room.

Once inside, he locked the door and gave me his predatory stare. "Oh my," he declared. "I do not know what to do—you've been basically naked all this time and now I have the _honor_ of stripping you down. I do not know where to begin. I'm like a kid at Christmas." He licked his lips.

I blushed and started to take off my top. "No, no, no," Negan walked over and stopped me. "I get to unwrap my gift. And such a beautiful gift it is. I wish I could take my time and make this excruciating, but we have others nearby—which reminds me, you'll probably have to keep that screaming of yours down a little." I blushed even more and stifled a laugh as I looked up at his wicked grin. We _had_ been very loud and that was half the fun… I'd try my best, but I didn't promise anything.

When he'd stripped us both down, he laid me down on the floor and propped himself up beside me. He then proceeded to fondle my chest and made a big show of apologizing to "his titties" for not being able to give them the proper attention that they deserved and promised that they would have their own attention from him very soon. I just rolled my eyes. But then I had an idea.

"Negan. You keep promising them all of these things, but you haven't delivered."

He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Come over here and deliver. I believe they were promised a _titty fuck_? Yes, I'm pretty sure they were."

With that, his eyes lit up and suddenly Negan was looming over me, placing his huge cock in between my breasts. I felt like such a slut, as I spit on his cock and began to stroke it. He put his hand on mine and continued. Then it donned on me—lotion! I told him to grab it and he was more than eager to oblige. We lathered up his member but not before I licked the length and kissed the tip. He groaned. I took my hands and pressed my huge boobs together as he slid in between them. "Ohhhhh fuck. I love these titties," he said. I wasn't an expert at this, but I worked his cock in between my soft breasts, moving it up and down and tried to lick the tip when it came close to my mouth. He was a mess—he was getting to fuck his favorite toys. He made up for what I lacked in skill.

After he'd warned _me_ not to scream loudly, I started to wonder if he'd take his own advice. He kept talking _to_ my chest, _about_ my chest, and moaned and cursed in between his chatter. There was no doubt that Negan loved gliding his lotion-coated cock between my breasts. He continued to pump furiously and moan. "I love these fucking tits," he said through gritted teeth. He was almost there: I could tell. I just smiled at him, keeping my breasts pressed together with my hands, as his movement rocked both of our bodies.

"Oh baby. It's fucking time," he cried out. "Where?"

I really didn't want to have to wipe anything off of my face and I also wanted to please him—and this time, not for information, so I quickly took him into my mouth and began to stroke with my tongue and hand. He whispered a slew of curse words as he exploded into my mouth. I licked him clean and he then rolled off and collapsed beside me.

After he'd caught his breath, he pulled me in his arms he said, "Those are the best fucking tits. Fuck. And, by the way, I'm proud that you didn't burst out of here to find me today. I was pretty sure you were about to because you got fucking dressed."

"Well, I could hear you and I didn't know what would happen after last night and I was so afraid, Negan. I thought you could be pleading for your life."

"Don't you worry, baby. Besides, what did I tell you? I _always_ win." He tapped his finger on my nose, and then kissed my forehead. "And don't you ever fucking forget that."

"Yes. You've mentioned that," I said flatly. "But, hey, I didn't come out because I didn't want to face your wrath or put myself in danger—or both."

"Does Scary Negan still haunt you?"

"He will for the rest of my days."

"Well, let's see if we can replace him with Sex-crazed Negan." And, with that, he was on top of me again, kissing me and I could _feel_ that he was already ready for Quickie: Round Two.


	15. Hello There, Boys

A/N: I'm sorry if this is all rubbish... my heart is broken b/c I've been a Prince fan since I was 3- literally. My cousin started me on The Man early in life. I'm blessed that I got to see him in concert but I am truly heartbroken and it probably shows up in my crappy writing. Trying to get my mind off of it. Apologies. "Sometimes It Snows In April..."

After our second fuck session, Negan got up, put on his boxers and left the office, telling me he'd be right back. That was fine by me. I needed to catch my breath. Quickies in Negan's book were hot and heavy—okay, sex with Negan was _always_ hot and heavy—but, that last session was a frenzy of emotion and motion. I sighed contently.

Negan came back holding two red apples. He offered one to me. I had thoughts of Negan being the devil, tempting Eve with the apple as he extended his hand to me. I giggled to myself. It was too late for me—I'd already made a deal with the devil. I'd told him I loved him. I took the apple and bit into it. The flesh was so sweet and the juices ran down my face. He looked at me with a smirk. "Better than sex?" he asked.

"Maybe," I replied as I chewed. "Not sex with _you,_ though." I made a kissy face at him and he grinned.

"I love it when you're fucking flirty. Makes me wanna go for a fucking third time, but a couple of those fuckers were awake when I went to grab these." I stuck my bottom lip out and over-exaggerated my pouting and he just laughed.

"Do you realize that I'm going to smell like sweat and sex every time I'm around these guys? That's not really a good thing. It's a little embarrassing," I said.

"Correction," Negan stated. "You are going to smell like sex with _me_ and you're going to have my fucking scent all over your body. But, if it embarrasses you, I guess we could just abstain. I'd do anything to make my angel feel comfortable."

He was so full of shit. I stuck my tongue out at him. "Please. I know you don't mean that. Just like sleeping in two different rooms. I'd _love_ to see how long abstaining lasted. Besides, I'll just be marked as your _property_ —wasn't that the term?" I smirked.

"I believe that was it. I'm glad you've come around to my terminology.

"Too bad we don't have a tattoo gun around here so I could just put ' _Property of Negan'_ on my forehead," I laughed.

"Hmm. We can add that to the list of things we need to get," he laughed. "Now, get dressed and if you're up to it, you can meet the rest of the guys. There are four other fuckers. They have been under Kevin's command for fucking forever. They'd die for him—i.e. they will die for me and more importantly, for you. They've sworn themselves to protecting you at all costs."

"Negan, that's a lot to ask of someone."

"The fuck it is! They were fucking willing to die for their country—they just have a new fucking mission now."

Now I was _really_ nervous about my first impression. Was I worth all this protection? I doubted it. I wiped myself off as best as I could and tried to mask my sweat and sex scent with some of Negan's lotion. I wished that he'd offered a shower, but I knew that we had business to get down to. Or _they_ had business to get down to, so the sooner the introductions were over, the better. I wasn't sure how much of a factor I'd be in any of this. I checked my face the best I could in my compact mirror, but flushed and just-fucked was going to have to do. Besides, they'd probably see me like that most of the time anyway. Negan whistled to himself as he patiently waited for me.

When I was ready, we walked out, hand in hand, to the main waiting area where the men had gathered around one of the tables. Kevin's nap had been a short one. He was with the other men, his legs propped up on the table. As Negan and I approached them, all five of them stood up to greet us. I blushed. Negan nodded to them and they sat back down. I said hello to Kevin and asked if he'd slept well.

"I did. Just needed a quick nap. I'll sleep better tonight—better than I've slept in months," he said. Kevin then began to introduce me to the men around the table. They were all in their late 20s or early 30s. Brad was from Los Angeles and looked like the stereotypical California-surfer with his bleach-blond hair and tan. Ryan was also from the west coast (Seattle) and had dark hair and eyes. He gave off a very emo vibe. Maybe it was just his coloring, but, then again, he _had_ reasons to be hate everything and look depressed. Both Ryan and Brad were single. Josh was, as well. He was the Brainiac of the group (so I was told later). He had light brown hair that was beginning to curl after missing a few haircuts. He was from the Midwest, specifically Indiana, within driving distance to Chicago. The last of the four was J.P. who was from Tempe, Arizona, where his wife and daughter had been living when the government had called him in. To date, his wife Katie had gone missing, but his mom had his infant daughter, Piper. J.P. had dirty blond hair and lines of concern etched across his face.

I greeted each one of them politely and told them that, even though I was pretty new here, myself, if they needed anything to just ask. I was trying to play the dutiful hostess. I didn't really know what my role was. I didn't know if I smelled like sex but, as I looked at these tired men, I didn't think they'd notice. They were covered in blood and dirt. They'd faced monsters and men and come out alive. They were survivors. I then realized that I sounded like a fool. I amended my pleasantries and said, "I'm sorry. You don't need to hear anything from me. I know you're tired and you've been through things that I can't even imagine. I can only say that I'm _glad_ that you made it and I hope that you'll get some rest and look at this place like I have—as a sanctuary from the outside madness. I'm sorry. I'm rambling. Negan?" I looked to him to see if he approved or if I'd totally screwed up. Apparently, it was the former. He echoed my sentiments, saying that they'd reconvene to start planning after everyone had showered, rested, and been fed. He excused us and, as Negan turned me around to leave, I said that it was nice to meet all of them. They all stood again and each acknowledged my statement, either with a nod or a reply echoing my sentiment.

When we got back to Negan's office I said, "They, um, seem nice." He assured me that they were. Negan told me that Kevin had briefed him on their current condition. After an especially rough escape, they were probably still tired and in shock. As with Kevin, they had been so disgusted with what they'd seen the government do and what they'd been ordered to do, that they might start to suffer from PTSD, if they weren't starting to already. I was alarmed at that and it showed on my face. Negan stated, "These are Kevin's men—you won't find fucking finer guys. They just need some time to process what they've seen and done. And, these are the guys that couldn't fucking get back to their families—so remember, _we're_ their family now." I nodded. I knew that he was trying to make me feel better about the potential for crazy. Great. _More_ crazy men—just what I needed. However, Negan knew crazy. He apparently also knew how to control potential crazy. He casually explained that these men were used to taking orders—and they would now be taking them from him, as he'd provided refuge to the group. This was the deal he'd made with Kevin. I wondered if these poor, tired men had gotten the pleasure of meeting Scary Negan yet. I guess it didn't matter, as if they wanted to keep surviving, they'd have to obey Negan's new world order.

"What about Kevin? Does he take orders from you? Do I?"

"Yes and no to both of those. Whether you realize it or not, you've already taken orders from me. Don't forget, when you didn't listen, Jerry almost fucking killed you. And, just this morning, you waited for me instead of setting off to find me and putting yourself into potential danger. I'm fucking proud of you. So, yes, there are rules. Kevin will be taking orders, but I'll hear him out and he'll be my closest confidant —just think of it as their squad functioning as they did, with me overseeing everything and everyone. Does that make sense?"

I just nodded. I didn't want to hear more about this at the moment. All I knew was that Negan was in charge. "What about standing every time I—you—we enter the room? Is that a requirement? Do I have to do that?"

Negan just laughed. "Love, they are used to doing that to their higher-ranking officer, which would be me, now. I believe that they would do that for you, as a courtesy to such a beautiful lady, anyway. But, they are also recognizing you as _my_ lady." I took all of that in for a moment. "Well, can you ask them not to do it for me? It seems like it's exhausting and I don't need it. I'm not their superior."

" _Queen_ ," Negan reminded me and I rolled my eyes. "Okay, I'll let them know when they should stand for you and when they need not get up, since you'll probably be around each other often. But, I can't promise that they won't do it by habit. I hope baby doesn't feel too uncomfortable with gentlemen around. Now, they're about to start getting cleaned up. Let me go tell them to hold off so we can get you cleaned up first and then they can roam around all they want."

Negan ran out of the room and I heard some talking. I grabbed some towels and waited beside the door, leaning on his desk. I heard him coming back. He opened the door and I dutifully stood up at his entrance. He rolled his eyes. "Don't do that again," he chastised. We went down to the shower room and he checked to make sure it was clear, then let me in, locked the door, and then gave me that delicious third quickie he'd wanted.

Thoroughly fucked and clean, I returned with Negan to the office—I couldn't call it the bedroom because we didn't have a bed yet—it was still an office. He dried off, put on his clothes and left swiftly. He was back with tons of fruit, bread, and vegetables. I was afraid that he'd taken more than he'd needed to, but he said they had plenty of food right now and told me to eat up. He joined me for a few minutes, as the men were going to be showering and eating, as well. He told me that they'd probably be up late, detailing out everything that they needed to do to fortify the dealership. Negan said he'd be laying out the rules. I wondered if that meant that they'd be meeting Scary Negan. I asked if I should be in on the meeting because I could talk supplies for the livable portion of the dealership. Negan assured me that they probably weren't getting to that tonight, but that I'd definitely be in charge of making the place livable. I took that as meaning that they were _definitely_ meeting Scary Negan tonight.

He promised that he would make the meeting as short as possible, as they'd need rest to accomplish everything he wanted done tomorrow, but as this was their first real meeting, it might go longer than he'd like. I told him I'd be okay—I had my book and I could always make lists of my own. He kissed me on the forehead and smiled, like I was making him proud, preparing for the future— _our_ future. As he got up to leave, I took a deep breath and asked, "Negan? Can you ask them if they have access to a phone? And do you think I can try to use it?"

"Of course, my love," he said. "And we're going to make plans to get to your apartment, so I need you to write down the address so the guys can go assess the area in the morning." My eyes widened and I nodded. Suddenly, I had hundreds of thoughts about what I would get from my apartment if I could get in. I got up and got a piece of paper from Negan's desk, scribbled down my address, and handed it to him. He grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face to his. He kissed me long and hard. I put my arms around his neck and we stood together for a while until he pulled away, kissed my forehead and said, "Fucking meeting. I'll be back soon."

I tried to read through my book, but my mind kept floating back to my apartment. I thought about what clothes and shoes I needed to bring—mostly just t-shirts and jeans, because, it wasn't like I'd be going to any formal affairs. My mind began to drift, wondering if I'd ever need a bikini. It wasn't impossible, as I could lay out in the sun… maybe we would have a pool someday. I started to think about pool sex with Negan. My mind was running away from me. I kept expecting to hear Negan coming in holding a phone so that I could call my parents. I waited and waited, but the only thing I heard was the lull of voices outside in the distance. I'll admit it was better than listening to the thunder of bombs. I gave up on the hope of getting a phone after a while and laid down in our makeshift bed.

Seconds were ticking by in my mind. Minutes passed, feeling like hours. I must have drifted off. I realized it was dark and silent in the office, as I lay on my side. I could feel the cold air from the air conditioner blow across my naked back. I inhaled and exhaled slowly. I couldn't hear the voices in the distance anymore. All I could hear was my own breathing in my ears. I began to become aware of every breath I took. As more time passed, I almost felt Zen-like. I could feel every nerve ending. It was so damn quiet. And if Negan was near, it would certainly not be quiet. I smiled at that thought. Then I closed my eyes again.

I was awakened again as I felt a rush of air behind me. He was here, moving up behind me. I could feel him approaching, slowly. I tried to keep quiet. Negan needed to rest and if I pretended to be asleep, then he would fall asleep. His hot breath was on the nape of my neck, his naked body pressed up against my own naked flesh. He placed his hand on my side, just above my hips and ran it slowly up my side. His hands were firm and hard, but not overly rough. I loved the feel of them on me. I almost moaned, but stifled it in time. He ran his hand up my arm and over to my breast and his breath hitched. I bit my tongue so that I wouldn't laugh. He was so obsessed with my breasts. I was being caressed and played with. I kept biting my tongue. Nothing was going to escape my mouth. My will was firm.

After a few minutes, he lazily moved his hand up to the nape of my neck. He gently kissed my neck and whispered, "Sent from Heaven" and sighed. At that moment, I thought I was going to melt. I was putty in his hands—I always was. But, he needed sleep, didn't he? Maybe he would fall asleep any second— _although the erection pressed against my ass made me doubt that_. His hand moved away from my neck, and down my sides, and back to my breasts. I couldn't contain it any longer, I started to giggle.

"Wench, you awake?" he whispered. He then rolled me onto my back and went back to my breasts. From the earlier sensation and arousal, not to mention the chilly atmosphere, my nipples were rock hard. He ran his hands over them and gave each a rough pinch. I reflexively pulled away, but he wrapped a long arm around my belly and pulled me into him. With his remaining free hand, he continued to pinch, a little harder each time. The pain and pleasure coursed through my already ragged nerves. After a few minutes the hand moved away again. When his hand went back to my chest, a shot of cold on my breast sent a massive shiver through me. I gasped. He began to rub my sore nipples with a blisteringly cold ice cube. "Where did you get—" I stared to ask, only to be shushed by Negan. The cold soothed and excited my nipples even more. He passed them gingerly over each breast, and then down my stomach. The combination of the ice cube and the cold breeze blowing from the air conditioner caused me to shiver uncontrollably. I pushed myself deeper against him to take some of his warmth. Responding, he tightened his hold around my belly. The ice cube melted away, and he wrapped his remaining arm under me. As he pulled me in tightly, his body was quickly warming my cold skin. Pressed against his chest, I could feel his heart begin to race and his breathing quickening.

He propped himself up over me on his elbows. He took his left hand and cradled my neck. His lips brushed the base of my neck and then my collarbone. He began to trace up my throat and across my jawline with soft kisses. His stubbly beard was prickly against my skin and heightened the sensation of his kisses. He slipped my earlobe in between his lips and began to gently bite and suck it. He put his mouth right next to my ear and I could feel his hot breath as he whispered, "You are a fucking goddess. I should kneel before you."

At that, I was a puddle. He had melted me completely. Apparently Negan didn't need to rest—or at least he didn't want to. He began to trace his way back across my cheek to my lips. He tightened his grip on the back of my neck and cradled my right cheek with his hand. His lips grazed against mine—mine parting in response. He kissed me passionately and pulled me to him harder, wrapping his right hand behind the small of my back. As it had always been with Negan, it felt like he wanted to consume me, to bring me into him.

I could feel him against my entrance and I knew that he could feel that I was more than ready, especially after he'd aroused me with the ice. His eyes bore into mine. Negan was more than intense. He wanted me to say yes, to allow him to take me. I traced my hands over his ass and thrust him forward, into me. He grinned and entered me ever-so-slowly. It was excruciatingly delightful. He started to thrust in and out. He nibbled at my lips, as he slid in and out. He could feel my tension building and broke his kiss long enough to say "Let it go baby, let that orgasm out." He then went back to kissing me deeply again. My thighs were wiggling and I felt the tightening of the muscles in myself. My lower body contracted and I moaned into his mouth as I came apart. He repositioned himself and began to thrust in and out of me again. He took his hand and brushed the hair from my face, gazing into my eyes.

"Negan. You—looking—at—me—is—enough—to—make—me—again," I gasped. He gave me a salacious smile and kept going, this time moving a finger to my clit, rubbing it while he thrust in and out of me. He owned me and he knew it. I knew that he could see it, too. Soon I began to convulse and I could feel my lower body contract. "Good girl," Negan said. He started to thrust harder and I knew that he was about to explode, too. He grabbed on to one of my hips and ground himself into me, thrusting harder and harder. He was about to orgasm, and so was I. All I needed was one word from him and I knew that it would be my undoing. He started to roar a slew of curse words, as he exploded in a deep powerful orgasm. At the sound of him, I unraveled and then we both went limp, Negan falling on top of me, breathing hard.

His sweaty body was pressed on top of mine, his breathing ragged. After a few minutes I whispered, "Are you asleep?" He laughed and shook us both.

"So," I whispered, "how was the meeting?"

"Everything's fucking great," he replied as he slid off of me and pulled me into a spooning position. "Um, about this… I really couldn't help it. You looked so peaceful and your skin was like fucking porcelain. I wanted to just watch you sleep. But, you know me. I could apologize, but I'm not fucking sorry." He nuzzled the back of my head.

I laughed quietly and said, "Well, I'm just glad that you're a happy boy. But, the ice?"

"Um… well, that was me being creative… and perhaps wanting to wake you up because I'm a bastard and wanted to be inside of you."

All I could do was shake my head as he squeezed me. "Goodnight, angel. I l _ove_ you," he said. I sighed contently as he held me tight and we fell asleep


	16. The Real World

The next morning, I woke up without my big spoon. I figured he was out with the guys, as I heard lots of movement. I was amazed that we'd grown from two to seven and wondered if we'd grow any more in the months ahead. I had no idea what to expect. I was just along for the ride, I supposed. I quickly dressed in the only clothes I had and grabbed a Coke from the Toyota cooler—it still had ice in it. That's where he'd gotten his pleasurable torture device from. _Toyota made quality coolers_. I laughed to myself. I opened the Coke and walked into the showroom where I found all the guys talking and bustling around.

Negan, Kevin, and Josh were seated at the table going over a map while Ryan and J.P. were sitting on the floor cleaning _guns_ —not just guns, but like _giant_ guns. I had no idea where Brad was. As I approached, Kevin stood and Negan laughed, "Man, she's gonna hurt you _and_ me if you keep doing that." I just shook my head and blushed as Kevin sat.

"How are you this morning, lovely?" Negan asked. "Would you like to hear what the guys have been up to?" I nodded and took a seat beside him.

That morning, J.P., Kevin, and Josh had gone on a reconnaissance mission of sorts to see what we were surrounded by—the terrain, other establishments, if there were neighborhoods near—and if there were living (or not-quite-living) people lurking about. The plan was to see what types of stores were around, how to get in and out easily, and things like that. They'd also gone to my apartment complex to see if it would be possible to get in and get some of my stuff. They had found plenty of options of abandoned stores where they could get materials to fortify the dealership. They'd also found a wholesale club that Josh thought would be perfect for essentials, like mattresses, dry goods, and other things we might need in bulk. My apartment complex had seemed quiet. The military had abandoned the area, so they believed that they could easily maneuver in with a Humvee and one of the fleet vehicles to fill with my stuff.

"The fleet vehicles?" I asked.

"Let's take a quick walk," Negan answered. I nodded and he directed me toward the back of the building. As we walked through the hallways, Negan stopped and pinned me up against a wall. He kissed me fiercely and grabbed my chest and then peeled himself off me. I just smiled. He was ridiculous. As we went out the back door, I saw my white Rav4. It was sitting next to a black Rav4. In fact, every car parked out back was black except for mine. Besides the 2 Humvees that were parked out front, and the two Rav4s, the fleet included two Sienna minivans, two Tundras, four Tacomas (two were extended cab), one Sequoia, one used Ford F-150 and a used Jaguar F-Type Coupe.

"Your favorite color?" I asked.

Negan laughed and explained, "I only chose vehicles that could be masked easily and could hold lots of supplies or men. _Your_ white Rav4 was the exception."

As soon as he'd said that, I threw myself into him. As I hugged him, tears ran down my face. "Thank you. It was my dad. My dad bought that. He got the deal of a century on it. Thank you."

Negan wiped my tears and said, "It was yours. Why would I get rid of it? We probably won't fucking use it, but we'll have it."

"And the Jag? It doesn't hold lots of supplies or men," I said.

Negan shrugged. "It's a fucking Jag. Why not? Besides, you don't want to occupy it with me?"

I laughed and kissed him on the cheek. He smacked my ass and said, "Back inside." I didn't argue with that, as I had no idea what was lurking outside the building or watching us. Ever since the Jerry incident, I'd become pretty paranoid.

It was only mid-morning. I asked when they'd gone and scouted all of this. Negan said that they were up and out before dawn broke. They'd hoped to take one of the Humvees and a van to my apartment before noon. That way, we could get that out of the way and concentrate on fortifying the dealership, as well as making it fit for human habitation. I asked if I would be going to my apartment with the guys. Negan got quiet for a minute.

"I don't fucking want you to, but I understand that you are the only one that can decide what you need. I argued with Kevin about it, but I'll be with you, so you'll be completely protected. Since this is further from the city, we thought it would be a good idea to get there as soon as we could, since people were fleeing D.C. and could be coming this way. We're taking one of the vans and a Humvee—the Humvee will be used as a decoy in case we run into any trouble, and the van will be for your shit."

"Thank you, Negan. I know it's scary and I'm scared, but I know exactly what I need to get. I can hand you a bag and we can be in and out in no time."

Silence. I just sighed and kept walking with him.

I hadn't seen the "real world" in days. I'd been stuck inside with Negan before the Terrible Twenty had even happened. I'd been eating snack food and having sex—not that I was complaining about the latter, as my sexual partner looked like a damn model. But, that _had_ been my life for the past week. Now I was excited and nervous. I was _in_ the real world. I hoped that I wouldn't be having any Jerry-type encounters in my immediate future while in said real world.

As we traveled the short distance to my apartment complex, I was armed with trash bags (to throw my stuff in, as we'd have to move quickly, according to Negan). He wanted me out in the open about as much as he wanted to abstain from sex. Negan was at the wheel of the van, armed with multiple guns. We were following one of the Humvees, carrying Kevin and Josh, who were also strapped with multiple weapons. I'd learned that the guys had raided a huge pawn shop close to where they'd been stationed, grabbing all the weapons and ammo available. It had proved to be a wise decision when they'd fought their way out of the city. They had every type of gun I'd ever seen and tons of knives and other devices. There were even multiple sets of brass knuckles. I asked Negan if I could at least have a knife. He'd said not yet. At least he had said "yet."

I looked out the window of the van's passenger seat. They'd taken the rest of the seats out so that we'd have plenty of room for my stuff. I didn't think I'd be bringing back _that_ much, but I guess it didn't hurt anything. We were approaching the road to my apartment complex. It looked desolate. As we pulled in to the entryway, I noticed that over the apartment complex name, "CLEAR" had been spray painted. I wondered what that meant. I'd have to ask Kevin. On the other hand, I'm not sure that I wanted to know, as I was a member of that "clear," whatever it meant. The complex looked like a ghost town. I half expected to see a tumbleweed roll across the parking lot.

We came upon my apartment. Luckily, it was on the first floor, so we could easily load the van. Negan had even backed the van right up to the door. He turned off the engine and I started to get out. "Wait," he said. He told me that Kevin and Josh were going to sweep my apartment first. I'd given them the keys before we'd left. I watched in the rearview mirror as the two men left their Humvee, unlocked my apartment, and disappeared inside, with their guns up and ready to fire. After what felt like hours, Kevin came out and opened my door. Josh was outside my apartment, standing guard. Negan entered first and Kevin followed me in. I basically just had the guys unload my entire dresser and chest of drawers into bags. Kevin and Negan were dumping bras, panties, pajamas, lingerie, t-shirts, jeans, socks, and tank tops into garbage bags. I'm sure I didn't need all of it, but I didn't know what else to do. Meanwhile, I grabbed up all the shoes that I thought would be appropriate. I skimmed my closet and picked out a few nice things and a few dresses and shoved them in a garbage bag along with jackets, coats, and sweatshirts. I had to remind myself that, even if it wasn't cold out now, it would be eventually.

After I thought I'd gotten all the clothes I'd possibly need, I grabbed one of my suitcases from my closet and made my way to the living room and started grabbing a couple photo albums and a multitude of picture frames. I took a few mementos, all cherished memories from my past. I went into my bedroom, grabbed my jewelry box, and shoved it into the suitcase and zipped it. I told Negan to strip my bed and grab the pillows and my stuffed cat (her name was Kitty). He laughed at the cat, but did it anyway. I told Kevin to basically throw everything from the medicine cabinet into a bag—and everything under the sink. This included things like tampons, but I was too tense to be embarrassed.

Kevin had already made three trips to the van and was on his fourth when we heard a gunshot. Negan ran over to me and pulled me to the floor with his finger to his mouth, meaning for me to be quiet. We knelt there and the minutes drug on before Kevin came back in. "It was just one of them undead things," he said. "Josh took it out and we looked to around to see if there were any more, but that seems to be it. What else ya got for me, little lady?" I couldn't think of anything, so I'd told them if they thought they could fit any furniture in the van, to go ahead. As I looked around I remembered my crazy thoughts from the night before and grabbed a box from under my bed. I took out two bikinis and threw them in a bag. Negan looked at me and laughed. "Don't ask," I said.

"Oh, I won't ask, but _only_ if you promise to model them for me later," he replied, wearing his Cheshire cat grin. I rolled my eyes.

We'd grabbed blankets and lamps and even managed some dishes, as I loved my Fiesta dinnerware. After all, it _was_ made in my home state. I was sweating by the time I'd ushered all the books I could manage into a trash bag. There was _no_ way that I was leaving those, especially if I was going to be left alone for a good amount of time, while Negan was planning this and that. Kevin hauled them off to the van and I started to make for the door when I stopped to take one last look at the place I'd called home for only a few short months. That made things easier. It was time to make a new home with a new family. And at the moment, the leader of that family was grabbing my hand and ushering me out the door.

Kevin locked the door, handed me the keys, and we were off. That really hadn't taken as long as I'd thought it would. I wiped the sweat off of my brow. Unlike the dealership, the apartments' air conditioning had been turned off—in fact, there hadn't been any power. It was a good thing that we'd been there during the day.

As I looked out the window and watched as my apartment building faded into the distance, Negan spoke up, "So, I'm gonna let this one fucking slide, since it's been a tense day and all, but don't ever think that Kevin will be anywhere near your bras and panties again."

"Seriously? I hope you're just joking around. What was I supposed to do? Have him turn his head? Have him sit and wait? It would've taken double the amount of time and he has— _had_ —daughters. It's not a big deal. Negan, I swear—"

"Chill out, baby," Negan cooed. "I'm just fucking joking."

"Well, I'm not sure if I know when you're joking and when you're not. You don't sound like you're joking and you're making me crazy."

"Honestly, I'm fucking tense as hell right now and I'm gonna be tense until we get you back and locked up in my fucking office. And then, and _only_ then, will I feel like you're safe. And, when I _do_ get you locked up in that office, I'm going to be taking this tension out on you."

As if on cue, his tension escalated, as a group of four monsters came into view, walking into the road from the right—into our oncoming traffic—and heading toward the van. Negan slammed on the breaks, which jolted us forward. Thank goodness I always wore my seatbelt. By the time I looked up, Josh was already taking care of the situation, and he blasted each one in the head with a shot of his gun. Their heads exploded, with blood and brains bursting everywhere. Josh had great aim, but, then again, he _was_ a marine. How do I know that this is what happened? Because I watched him do it. I watched him and then I threw up in my lap. In the van. With Negan right beside me.

"Fuckity fuck, baby!"

"I know. I'm sorry," I sobbed.

"It's okay. Let's just get the fuck back." I didn't know if he was pissed at me for puking or at himself for putting me in danger or both. I just wanted to die of embarrassment. At least I hadn't done it in front of the rest of the guys. But, they'd find out. Tears rolled down my cheeks the entire way back. Negan didn't say much, just whistled a nervous tune.

We pulled up to the gate and JP let us in. He was keeping watch in the other Humvee. All the military guys were taking shifts guarding the place. I guess that's where Brad had been earlier that morning.

Luckily, I had only had a Coke that morning, so I wasn't dealing with too much damage to my clothes. On an even brighter note, nothing had hit the van—not even my seatbelt. As soon as we pulled into the maintenance garage Negan said, "You stay right here and I'm going to grab towels and clothes and we're heading to the showers." I only nodded. I didn't even look at him. I was mortified.

Negan was back in no time and I had to face him. I tried to curl up my t-shirt so he couldn't see anything gross, but he didn't seem to care. He opened the car door, handed me the towels and clothes and held out his hand to help me out of the van. Once out, I was shocked as he grabbed me and began to carry me into the dealership and down the hall to the shower. I only started to cry more.

"Shhh. Baby, you're fine," Negan soothed. "I told you that they'd protect you. You don't have to cry. I know it was scary out there, but we're back home now. This is our home and I'm here. We're gonna get you cleaned up."

We made it to the shower room door. He put me down and opened it, checked to see that it was clear and led me inside. This was the pattern I'd gotten used to. He locked the door and began to strip me of my clothes.

"Negan. No. It's gross," I sobbed. He didn't listen. He took off my nasty garments and put them on the floor. He then undressed himself and led us both into the shower. He held me in his arms while I sobbed. The water cascaded over us as he rocked me back and forth. When I'd calmed down, I reached for the shampoo, but he got to it first and began to watch my hair. He continued washing me off and when he got to my chest, he didn't make any comment about "his titties." He only washed me gently. He was taking care of me. This was love. This was altruistic. This was Agape love… he'd passed Eros. "I love you, too," was all I could get out between my sobs. He had been kneeling, washing my legs when I'd said it. He froze for a second and then put his arms around me and pressed his head to my stomach. I wrapped my arms around his head and bent down to kiss his forehead. He looked up at me and the look in his eyes echoed my thoughts.

When he was done, he wrapped me in a towel and led me to the door. I bent to pick up the dirty clothes and he shook his head. "Later," he said. He put a towel around himself, unlocked the door and took my hand. He led me to the huge manager's office. It was more like a manager's _suite_. He picked me up and said, "Time to carry you over the threshold. We're home, baby."

As I looked around, I could see that my bags had been brought in. They'd managed to get a bookshelf and a couple lamps from my apartment, as well. There was a small bathroom with a sink and a mirror. I was elated. I wouldn't have to be walked down the hall by Negan any time that I had to potty. I also noticed that there was a bed in the room. A bed! It wasn't quite a king-sized mattress, but it was big. Negan put me down and I walked over to it and touched it. Negan watched me, assessing my reaction. I turned around and asked, "When? How? Is this ours?"

Negan smiled. "Josh took measurements for this room and figured out where a bed would fit best. While we were gone, Ryan and Brad took one of the Tundras to a mattress place they'd seen this morning and got the mattress, mattress pad, bedframe and box spring, some sheets, and pillows and shit and set it up for you. We figured we'd surprise the lady of the house with her own bed before we lowly men got ours. Do you like it?"

I nodded. I didn't know what I could say without more tears pouring out.

"Oh, and just so you know," Negan added, "the mattress pad is waterproof." He winked at me and I blushed a fierce red.

The guys hadn't totally made up the bed. The mattress and box spring sat on the bedframe and they'd put on the (waterproof) mattress pad and a set of light purple sheets. On top of the sheets was a huge pile including coconut pillows, memory foam pillows, gel pillows, feather pillows, more sheets, a memory foam topper and a featherbed topper. I couldn't believe it. I felt like a princess. I needed thank you notes. Were these guys taking orders to bring all of this, or had they gone the extra mile to make me feel special? I needed to know—I didn't want to look like a demanding bitch.

"Did you tell them to get all of this stuff? The foam topper and all the pillows?"

"Nope. I guess they just like you. But, I'll straighten that fucking shit up real fast."

"Negan, don't. Please," I begged. "It's so sweet that they brought all this extra stuff. But, it's _your_ bed, too, right?"

"Of course. You know I can't be away from you. I thought you said I'd crawl into bed wherever you were sleeping, anyway."

I laughed. "See, they were bringing stuff for their boss, not just for me. But I still need to thank them."

"And what about me, as I told them they could do it? _I_ gave the go ahead. I don't get any thanks? They can't do shit without my say-so. Where's my fucking thank you?" he asked.

"Um… right here?" And I let my towel fall to the floor.

"You are _fucking_ welcome." He licked his lips and then locked the door. He turned around and assessed the situation. Me, naked in front of a bed. I wondered what was going through that head of his. Something profoundly dirty, I was sure.

I started to pile all of the extra goodies beside the bed. I'd put the memory foam topper on later, as well as figure out what pillows we'd use. I expected Negan to tell me to stop or to throw everything and then throw me down, but he just stood where he was and watched me. I was _very_ aware that I was very naked and being watched. My body flushed. Even though I'd been with him day in and day out, I was still feeling awkward. Hell, he'd just gently washed every part of me in the shower (and not for the first time), but I couldn't help it. I still felt venerable.

Once everything was off of the bed except for two pillows, I pulled down the sheet and I could feel him coming up behind me. He began to run his fingers in my hair as I closed my eyes. "Did you enjoy your show?" I asked him.

"Fuck yes. Such a simple task, but you make everything look so fucking hot," he whispered.

"Ditto," I replied. He moved his hand from my hair to the small of my back and turned me to face him.

"How do you want to do this?" he asked, his eyebrows raised. "Should we break it in sweetly or should we just try to break the mattress?"

Suddenly, so many thoughts went running through my head—soft and sweet or rough? I could be bent over the bed, as I'm sure he'd enjoy, but it just seemed like soft and sweet was the way to go if it was the first time. "I don't know," I replied. "You take control."

" _Control_ ," he said, as if he was pondering the meaning of the word. He threw off his towel and picked me up and laid me on the mattress, with my head on one of the pillows. He then sat on the side of the bed and looked me up and down as one of his hands lazily caressed up and down my body ever so lightly. I could hear his breath change as I stirred under his touch.

Ever so gently, he slid his hand between my thighs. He traced his palm around my hips and across my stomach. He moved his hand up and began to trace my breasts with his fingers. "Fuck this. I need my titties," he said. I laughed as he descended on me. His hands began groping and squeezing my breasts, as he took one into his mouth. He began to suck on my nipple while rubbing my other nipple in between his fingers. He was in his happy place. I could only smile and run my fingers through his hair.

He kept sucking and massaging my breasts with his tongue, switching between them and talking to them like a crazy person. After a while, he took one of his hands and moved it down to where I was hot and ready. He slid a finger into me and I moaned. As he inserted another finger, I moaned again. He bit down on my nipple and grabbed my breast with his other hand. My sounds, my wetness, and my heat were cues begging him to please give it to me. He started to work my clit vigorously with his finger. I was dripping and he felt it. He lowered his head in between my legs and blew his warm breath gently as he exposed my clit by spreading my lips. I opened my legs wide and ran my fingers through his hair.

He slowly began to suck on my clit as he worked his fingers on my G-spot. He was relentless, as always. He licked my clit and nibbled it lightly. I was moaning, but trying not to be loud. I'd easily built up and started to climax as my body arched. I grabbed his head harder as he grabbed my thighs and buried his face in me. It was too much sensation. I tried to buck away from him involuntarily, but he had a firm grip on my thighs. He kept it up and was rewarded when I came all over his face.

His face was dripping and he quickly replaced his mouth with his cock and crawled up to kiss me deeply. He thrust hard and was angled perfectly and I came again. He inserted himself once again and continued to kiss me. I could taste myself on his lips and tongue. He began to pump in and out of me slowly. He slowed and backed off and began to slowly pop just the tip of his head inside of my lips. My body was a shaking hot mess at the tip of his cock. He was teasing me and I couldn't take it. He began to massage my breasts and gave me a look. The look was one of control. And he was _definitely_ in control. He popped his head in and out, with slow deep thrusts at random intervals to make me moan.

"You want _more_?" he asked, his breath ragged.

"Shit. Please. Fuck me," was all I could reply.

He caressed my cheek and then gave me a wicked grin. Before I knew it, he'd flipped me over onto my stomach. He smacked my ass and then plunged his cock deep inside me. I know I moaned loudly—I only hope that no one could hear how loud it was. Face down, ass up… he was probably loving this. From the noises he was making, I thought he was. He wrapped my hair around his wrist to make my back arch. He pumped fast and hard in me. It was bliss. It was _deep_. He kept pushing me, kept fucking me across the bed until I was almost against the wall. I put my hands against the wall to try to hold myself up as he continued to pound me. The sound of us was bliss. I could do this forever, except that my body was betraying me. I felt myself build and begged him to let me cum. He slapped my ass again and I knew that I was going to be undone. I wasn't alone. He cursed and growled and I felt him spill into me as I shuddered and tightened around him and then released.

We both collapsed on to the bed. Negan rolled me on my side and pulled out of me. He held me close and we slowly and wordlessly ran our hands over each other lazily. My hair was still at his mercy, as he yanked my head back, only to gently kiss me on the cheek. "Thank you for the mattress," I whispered.

His free hand curled around and felt the wetness still in between my thighs. "You are so fucking welcome," he said. He kept his hand there, possessing me as I drifted. No one could fuck like Negan and after a session with him, the only dreams I had were sweet. I didn't even care that I was laying on soaked sheets.


	17. Kitty

I was so comfortable, so sated, and so calm. I didn't want to move. I was on a real mattress covered in a sheet and my duvet from my apartment. Someone had apparently found it for me. I looked over for that someone and all I found was my stuffed cat, Kitty. I smiled, grabbed Kitty and held her close. I still refused to get out of bed, even if I was still on top of a wet spot. I started to look around the room that I was now occupying. It was three times the size of Negan's office (and his had been pretty big). I thought that there had been a conference room built into the office, as well. There was some sort of meeting place, at least, as there were lots of chairs piled in the corner. I guess the guys hadn't had time to remove them while setting up the bed. Maybe they'd thought we'd want to keep them. I tried to visualize how to situate everything. They'd gotten my bookshelf, but there was another bookshelf in the office. I was pretty excited about that. I tried to think of how I was going to store my clothes and where I would be able to put things, but became frustrated and finally just rolled over. Kitty and I went back to sleep.

My eyes fluttered open and I wasn't holding Kitty anymore. Kitty had apparently been tossed to the floor. Someone was holding _me_ … and holding me the way he had been before he'd left—with his hands cupping me between my thighs. I snaked my hand onto his and forced it to rub me. He growled in my ear and bit it gently. I rolled around to face him. His eyes were closed and he was rubbing my back with his now free hand.

"Did you throw Kitty?" I asked him. Negan kept his eyes closed and tried his best to hide a smile. "If you threw Kitty on the ground, I am going to be very angry at you." He kept his eyes closed but started to chuckle and his big smile appeared across his face.

Eyes still closed, he whispered, "Punish me."

"You'd like that too much. I'll just keep _my_ kitty away from you. _That_ would be an appropriate punishment." At that, his eyes flew open and he looked affronted. He was so damn dramatic.

I climbed on top of him and held his hands down. He kept his acting up, with a look of fear on his face. I frowned down at him. "It's gonna be you, me, and Kitty sleeping in this bed, you got that? If we do other things in the bed, Kitty will have to turn her face away." I tried not to laugh. "You got that? I don't hear you answering me, bitch."

"Bitch?" He still looked quite affronted.

"You heard me, _bitch_." I looked down at him, trying to look mean. I kept his hands pinned down and bent down to kiss him. He moved his mouth away from mine. "Awe, baby, what's wrong? You don't like being called bitch? Gimme a kiss. I'm sorry."

"You don't mean it," he pouted.

I put his wrists together and tried (the best I could, as he was clearly stronger than I was) to hold them down with one hand. I took my other hand and grabbed his chin. "You move that beautiful face over here and kiss me, fucker." He was biting his lips, trying not to laugh at me—and not giving me what I wanted. "The more you resist, the worse it's going to be for you," I said. "Now you, me, and Kitty are going to sleep together, you hear me? And you're going to kiss me. Or else."

He looked up and huffily said, "Or what?"

"I'll tickle you?"

With that, he started laughing. I put my mouth down on his and he kissed me in between his laughter. I moved my hands to either side of his face and he moved his to my ass. "Have you agreed to my terms?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Negan smiled. "I'm not sure if there's room for all of us in this bed. Although, I'm terribly afraid of your methods of torture—the tickling sounds very scary." He laughed and squeezed my ass.

I kissed him and bit his lip. He moaned and we kept kissing as we ran our hands all over each other. Before you could say "Kitty," he was inside me and I was being moved up and down.

"Whoops. How did that happen?" he asked coyly. "Sit up and fucking ride me. I wanna see my tits bounce."

I did as he commanded and sighed, "Will I ever win?"

"Probably not," he grinned as he grabbed at my chest, all the while thrusting himself into me.

He was so deep it didn't take me long to explode. I was grinding on him, in control. He was a fine sight himself, just watching me and licking his lips. "Fuck. Negan. Ohhh. Fuck." I was spent. Seeing me come undone was enough to make him explode, too. I felt him shoot inside of me and felt complete.

I laid down on him and stared into his eyes. "You play dirty."

"I never said that I didn't. Did you not enjoy yourself? Or do you still want to tickle-punish me?" he asked.

I frowned and said nothing.

"Nothing to say?" he asked. He slid out of me and rolled me to my side and faced me. "Personally, I think my method of negotiation was much more fun. And I had the best view in the house. Let's do that again, soon. Besides, it's you that needs punished."

I looked at him, confused.

"There's a ginger ale and some crackers on that table that haven't been touched. You know, for your tummy." I turned so that I could see that there was, indeed, an unopened can of ginger ale and a package of crackers on a small table beside the bed. I'd totally missed it earlier.

"I honestly didn't see them. I'm sorry, but thank you."

"Of course, baby. However, when I came back into the room and saw you holding that cat, I became insanely jealous. That's why she got tossed. I wanted to be Kitty." He smiled.

"Well, you left… I had nothing to hold."

"Oh baby. I'm sorry." He grabbed me close. "You're _my_ Kitty."

"And you're crazy."

"Your point?" he asked. "Now, if you'd like to work on our room or come with me and see all of our new treasures—it's up to you. The boys have been quite busy. If you feel up to it, you can see all that we've amassed today. After all, someone has to help sort the domestic shit we've picked up. I think they'd like to discuss some things with you, as well. But, it's been a crazy day."

"Negan, I'm not that fragile. I've seen those things before. We got back safely. We have a bed. We need to change the sheets, or just put plastic down." I laughed. Negan raised an eyebrow, pondering the idea.

"It's dusk, so there won't be any more runs going on today. Tell me what you want to do, besides me, of course," he smiled wickedly.

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, I'd just kind of like to try to put this room together as best that I can. I don't know where we're going to keep clothes and shoes. I've got to figure this stuff out. Oh, and do you want a memory foam topper or a featherbed? We can put those on the mattress."

"If that shit ain't waterproof, it's not safe with us," he replied. I nodded. "So, you're sure you don't want to go shopping?"

"What?"

"Just get that fine ass dressed and get ready to be amazed. You might find something you'd like to add to our room." I did what I was told and followed him out into the hallway. We were further from the main sales area, and as we walked, I was noting piles of things along the walls. It looked like the local superstore had been looted.

Apparently Ryan was stealthy and could get in and out places quickly. He was able to make several runs to the nearest wholesale club, bust in, and get what we needed to, and fast. All he did was break into the store through the tire shop and drive the truck _through_ the store. With Brad's help (and another truck), they'd gotten 8 other mattresses, bedding sets for 10, a plethora of towels, sheets, and pillows—and that was just in the first couple trips. He'd even thrown in a few giant rugs for fun. For fun? Ryan was making my day. In addition to the home goods, they'd gotten tons of cases of bottled water and everything from the bakery that hadn't spoiled yet. And they were planning on going back tomorrow after we'd made a list of what else we thought might be a priority.

They'd also gone to the local Target and managed to procure thirteen various portable wardrobes and hangers and other storage items for clothes. My eyes were wide. I didn't want to just grab things, but I was so ready to get organized. They had gotten so much stuff. Meanwhile, Kevin and Josh (and even Negan) had started weaving what barbed wire they had through the gates to keep everything out while the other two kept making runs. Meanwhile, I'd just slept.

All the guys (except Josh, who was now outside on guard duty) gathered around and waited to hear what I had to say. It was a little amusing but, being a teacher, I knew how to praise. I told them that they were amazing and that I never would've imagined that they'd get all of this so quickly. I was being honest, though. If Negan didn't see that having all these guys here was a great thing, he surely did now. I also thanked them for getting us a bed and getting so many wonderful things to go with it, like the different pillows and sheets. I told them that I'd wished I'd grabbed thank you notes at my apartment because I was truly grateful for a bed to sleep in again and that I was glad that they all had beds again, too.

The guys told me to choose what I needed first. I kept saying that it was okay, but Negan insisted. I took one of the wardrobes that was made of slat wood—it had a bar for hangers with four shelves attached to it. Then I said that someone else should choose—that it would only be fair. Kevin piped up and said, "Sorry, li'l missy. You pick first for you and your man and we'll take the scraps. We can always get more."

Negan then presented me with a box containing a giant rolling shoe tower and all the guys started laughing. I said, "What? I didn't bring that many pairs!" and blushed. That only made the whole group laugh louder. These were guys who were used to one, maybe two, pair of boots. If they got their jollies over making fun of girls and their shoes, I'd let them. They'd been through hell and needed to laugh. I just shook my head, smiled, and yanked the box out of Negan's hands.

In the end, I had three wardrobes, four plastic boxes for under the bed, twelve fabric storage cubes to use as drawers, the shoe rack, and a few hooks that could be drilled in to the wall so that Negan and I could hang things. I'd also asked if I could have the four-cube shelf and a couple more of the storage cubes to use as a nightstand. I didn't have to even ask, I could just point, but I felt greedy… until I took a step back and looked at all that was left—I could definitely come back for more. I tried to pick the girly colors and was quite happy when two of the storage cubes had "This is my happy place" written on them. Negan would hate me for the pink, but secretly I thought he'd love the sentiment.

After everything had been carried back to our room, Negan and I sat down with Kevin and Ryan and ate some of the food that the boys had gotten from their outings. While we all ate, we talked about what was needed. I told them the more metal adjustable shelves we had, the better. They'd already brought one back and I told them that we'd probably need them for storage of non-perishable food, clothes, guns, and whatnot. Ryan nodded and looked like he was making mental notes of where he'd seen them in the stores. We discussed making the break room into a kitchen and dining area. We had storage there with the cabinets that already existed, but we still needed everything to cook with, from can openers to colanders. I told them that this wasn't an essential yet—we needed to get armed before we worried about our gourmet meals. I told them that they could get one of everything in Target that wasn't electronic—we'd need books, board games, sports equipment. I told them to grab anything that could be used as a weapon, even if it meant hurtling a ball at someone, we could weaponized it. Negan grinned at me. I could tell that he was proud.

I went on about how we needed to get things that people would have in an emergency kit—lots of candles, matches, water, flashlights and batteries. We needed to get every piece of medicine that we found, especially aspirin. I also pointed out that the guys needed to get some other clothes to wear. At that, Ryan looked down at the table and scratched his head before giving me a guilty look. I looked quizzically at him. "I grabbed some clothes for us today. Sorry," he apologized.

I told him that there was no need to apologize—that he'd be crazy not to. Then, I cut myself off. I didn't know if I was stepping into Scary Negan territory. I had told him it was okay—but I wasn't the one who gave the orders. Surely Negan wasn't crazy enough to say that clothing wasn't a priority. I grabbed his hand under the table and squeezed it. He nodded at me. Whew. I guess he was letting me lead this stuff, or he was pretending to, anyhow. I just didn't want Scary Negan to come out and play.

Since Negan was playing nice, I took all the courage I had and said, "Kevin. We need to make sure that Negan got everything from his home." I turned to Negan and said, "I know that you packed up that truck with essentials, but I want to make sure that you didn't leave anything behind. Just like they did for me, I want them to go to your place and get your stuff."

Negan's eyes were burning into mine. All he said was, "We'll see what I have here and then decide if that would be appropriate." I nodded and squeezed his hand again.

After going through some more necessities, I asked if I could be excused unless they needed me anymore. Negan dismissed me and Kevin stood as I stood then quickly sat down. I just laughed and told them all to have a great night and that I would be in the bedroom trying to sort through some of my stuff if they needed me. I started to walk away and turned to ask if we had tools to assemble the wardrobes. Negan laughed and told me not to worry about it. He said he'd take care of that. As I walked back, I passed the windows that looked into the maintenance area… and I'd asked if we had tools! I felt like an idiot. I swung past Negan's old office and grabbed a Coke and then began unpacking my trash bags and assembling what I could in our new room.


End file.
